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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26463862">Stuck Like Glue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/xStardustInMyEyesx/pseuds/xStardustInMyEyesx'>xStardustInMyEyesx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown &amp; King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bisexual Female Character, Dead sister, F/M, Musical Beej, Mutual Pining, Pansexual Beetlejuice, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Timeline is like half movie and half musical if that makes sense, dead dad, horribe mothers, not sure yet - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:09:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>38,406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26463862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/xStardustInMyEyesx/pseuds/xStardustInMyEyesx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After moving to a quaint town so she could start fresh, Willow McKinnon makes the horrible discovery that not only are ghosts real, but one in particular has chosen to haunt her because she can see him.  Now instead of settling in comfortably, she's stuck with a demon-ghost roommate who will stop at nothing to get her to say his name.  And of course, things only get worse when she starts to have feelings for him.  Can the two of them ever be together?  Or is she just kidding herself?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beetlejuice/Originial Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Unfortunately, Ghosts Are Real</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wanted to be productive during quarantine, and this fic is what happened.  This is my first fic on this site, so I hope I'm doing this right.  I've got multiple chapters of this thing, and I'll update if people read it and want more.  Hope someone enjoys this!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 1: Unfortunately, Ghosts Are Real</p><p> </p><p>     The small, sleepy Massachusetts town of Woodview was the perfect place for Willow to start her new life on her own.She’d visited Massachusetts once in her early college days, on a trip with some other members of the English department, and had made a vow to make a home there someday.After growing up on the outskirts of a grey, rusting city that never fully recovered from the loss of its steel industry back in the seventies, she was enchanted by the pure magic of New England.There was so much history buried deep in the very roots of every place she visited, yet there was also a clear desire for progression and change, and she was dying to be a part of it all.So when she was offered a full-time position at the Woodview Public Library-a position that paid double what she was making at her current job and it wasn’t even a promotion-she jumped at the chance to take it.It was a dream come true! </p><p>     The town itself was like something out of a book or movie:bordered by rolling hills and thousands of acres of forest, with idyllic parks, two hundred-year-old churches and their accompanying cemeteries, and a distinct feeling of tranquility that persisted even in the late July heat as Willow moved in.With a population just barely over four thousand people, it was just large enough that it wasn’t possible for everyone to know each other, but also too small for anything even remotely dangerous to happen; the nearest mall was in the next town over, but it had a commercial supermarket chain, so it wasn’t a total loss; and it was far enough that her mother would never want to visit under any circumstances (if they ever spoke again, anyway), yet still close enough that the people who wanted to see her were willing to take the drive.</p><p>     Her new house-a restored Victorian with four bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, a two-car garage, and plenty of space for a garden-was at the end of her block, at the top of a small hill, overlooking the rest of the street.It easily could have been sold for well over a million dollars, being in a wealthier neighborhood, but the asking price was only seventy thousand.  After a close inspection of the property, and quite a few long discussions with the realtor, Willow finally found out why: the most recent owners, an elderly couple, had died in the house.Not because of anything horrific or graphic, they’d just both been very old and sick and simply passed away peacefully in their sleep, but nobody wanted to touch the house.Rumors spread that the place was haunted, and it being a little on the gloomier side, with a dark grey exterior and black shutters and trim, the rumors stuck.It didn’t help that the old couple had been a little senile in their old age, having the tendency to begin speaking to people who weren’t there.All that did was confirm the suspicion they shared their home with ghosts.Their son, who had been bequeathed the house in the will, said he “didn’t want to live in such an ugly place”, and was willing to give it away to the first person who wanted it, and even included the appliances and most of the furniture to help sweeten the deal.The first person to come along just happened to be Willow.</p><p>     The house itself was a little weird in terms of floor plan, even for her.The two-car garage was attached to the house, with the door leading into the small alcove that was the laundry room.From there you walked into the dining room, and then the kitchen, which led into the living room.From the living room you could either head out the front door and onto the porch, or you could continue on into a hallway that took you down to a room the realtor called “the parlor” (when really, it was more of a glorified reading room or study) and the first-floor powder room, or you could head up that staircase to the second floor.The second floor had the master bedroom (complete with master bathroom), the guest bedroom, two spare bedrooms, another bathroom, and a staircase that led up to the attic.While everything was spread out, the way it was all set up still gave the feeling of it all being too close.She didn’t mind, though.Maybe it wouldn’t feel as empty.</p><p>     Sure, she didn’t necessarily need a four-bedroom house, being a single woman who was too busy working to take time out of her schedule to date, but she felt drawn to the place.  Maybe she was projecting a little bit, but the fact that it had been cast aside because it was a little dark and twisted in looks and history made her want it all the more.  It was her little dream home, and she was excited to make it her own.  But she had no idea that as she was moving in during the last week of July, something else was moving in too.  Something that was going to throw all of her plans for a peaceful life out the window.  Just like her house, the thing moving in was an unconventional outcast. </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice had spent the last twenty-odd years in the Netherworld, atoning for his last scheme to become living.  He’d almost gotten away with it too; he’d lied and tortured his way into marrying Lydia Deetz, a gothy teen who could see him, only for the whole plan to go balls-up when she stabbed him with some bad art two seconds into their marriage.  He didn’t blame her for what she did, it was totally fair, he had it coming.  You can’t just try to murder everybody when you’re angry, people don’t like that.  Breathers were really attached to the whole being alive thing, and after experiencing it for a short time, he could understand why.  He’d thought he was ready for the rollercoaster that was being alive, but he wasn’t, and he got what he deserved. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     He’d paid for it, too.  He’d spent over two decades being punished for his misbehavior with a ten year wait in the Netherworld waiting room, fifteen years doing community service, and getting slapped with an extra thousand year sentence to wander the earth invisible to the living, and now he wanted nothing more than to stretch his legs and find a little breather to scare.  Even if he couldn’t interact with the living or the living world, he could still do little things to annoy the hell out of them.  And maybe if he was lucky, he’d find someone close enough to dying that he could befriend once they finally kicked it.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice decided to stick around the first town he popped up in after leaving the Netherworld.  It wasn’t a bustling city, the higher-ups knew better than to plop him down in one of those, but it was better than that last place in Connecticut.  That one didn’t even have a movie theatre, all it had was a hardware store owned by three different guys named Howard and a television museum.  At least this town had a population in the thousands to keep him busy enough with finding his new victim. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     He wandered the whole town looking for the perfect candidate, until he finally found one in some old house on a hill; a young woman, about twenty-four or so, who, judging from the boxes in her house, was in the process of moving in.  She was pretty good looking too: curvy (that was fine, he liked a girl with meat on her bones), on the shorter side, with thick, curly reddish-blonde hair, hazel eyes, and pale, freckled skin.  She gave off this sad energy, like she’d been through some stuff.  That was probably why she was moving into a place like this, so she could start over.  Exactly what a demon like him was looking for: young, just starting out, and all alone in a big, creaky old house.  Those types were always the easiest to scare. They weren’t used to being by themselves, so every little sound and movement scared the hell out of them.  This was going to be fun. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice spent the first few hours in the house invisible, following her around so he could study her habits and behavior, getting to know her before he started trying out different ways to scare her.  He didn’t need to be invisible, she wouldn't be able to see him, but it felt more professional this way.  Sort of like watching a documentary.  It was a good plan, but after watching her, all he’d learned was that she liked listening to pop punk music and show-tunes (a very strange combination), she couldn’t reach some of the cabinets in the kitchen because she was too short (which made her really mad, and taught him that she had quite the mouth on her), and she didn’t sing in the shower (yes, he watched her shower, and yes, it was totally hot, her rack was even better without a loose t-shirt covering it and making it look smaller than it actually was, and her ass refused to quit).  Other than that, she was super boring.  No big deal, he’d just have to look through her stuff while she was sleeping (she’d finished unboxing the last of her things earlier, so he couldn’t miss anything).  What better way to get to know someone than to rummage through their personal belongings?So when she finally went upstairs to her bedroom, he decided to do just that.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>     Willow went to bed early that Friday night, fatigued from all of the unpacking she’d done during the day. It hadn’t been an easy week, but she was finally finished settling into the house and getting rid of some of the furnishings she didn’t like.  Just this afternoon she managed to get the living room <em>and </em>the kitchen in order, the last few boxes unpacked, and she’d even had enough time to make a dinner for herself that wasn’t grilled cheese and a can of soup.  So when she felt tiredness prickle her eyes at nine o’clock, she willingly went upstairs and got in bed.  She sighed happily, snuggling down into her covers.‘You have all weekend to relax now, she thought as she drifted off.‘The next two days are going to be bliss.’</p><p>     She’d only been asleep for about ten minutes when she woke up.  At first she had no idea what had disturbed her, until she heard what sounded like a voice coming from downstairs.  Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound deafening.  Someone was downstairs!  Were they robbing her?Was this what happened when someone broke into your house?She tried to listen for sounds of rummaging or things breaking, but all she heard was a low, incoherent voice.  They must’ve just come in, if they were taking things she would hear more.  Well, they weren’t going to have the chance, she was going to stop them.  They picked the wrong house to steal from.</p><p>     Grabbing her bat from the corner of her room she crept down the stairs (she’d laughed at her dad when he’d given it to her when she moved into her first apartment, but now she was glad to have it), holding her breath so she would be as quiet as possible, and keeping the lights off so the burglar wouldn’t see her coming and try to bolt.  She didn’t even use her phone as a flashlight; this guy wasn’t going to get the jump on her, no way.</p><p>     “What, no tv?  What kind of person doesn’t have a tv!  What is she, Amish?” a gravelly voice said from the living room.</p><p>     Willow followed the voice into the living room and flicked on the light.  A man was standing in the center of the room, staring in disgust at the decor.  He was chubby and had on a dusty suit with vertical black and white stripes, a similarly striped shirt, and a black tie.  His skin was bone-white, his eyes were dark brown, the scruff on his round cheeks was a vibrant green mixed with brown, and his wild mop of hair was a dark brown at the roots that melted into emerald green.  He was handsome in a weird way, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t smash his face in for breaking into her house.</p><p>     “Oooh, what are we up to?” he asked, eyeing the bat in her hands.</p><p>     “Who are you?  What are you doing in my house?” Willow asked, brandishing the bat at him.</p><p>     He gaped at her.“Can you see me?”</p><p>     “Of course I can, are you on drugs or something?  What the fuck are you doing in my house?”</p><p>     “You can see me?  Really?”</p><p>     “I’m giving you til the count of three to get your ass out of here before I call the cops and rearrange your face.”</p><p>     The man grinned at her with mossy teeth, his eyes twinkling.  “Good plan.  Only one problem with that: I’m dead.  Only one who can see me is you, babes, so the cops will just think you’re crazy.”</p><p>     Willow actually laughed.  “You expect me to believe that?  Seriously?  Sorry pal, I don’t believe in ghosts, especially “ghosts” who are trying to rob me.Now get out.”</p><p>     “You want proof?  No problem, babes.”</p><p>     The man snapped his fingers and vanished.  Willow dropped the bat in shock, slowly backing away.  ‘Okay, he’s gone, but that doesn’t mean he’s a ghost, he could just be some kind of magician or an illusionist or something,’ she told herself.  That thought only lasted a moment because then his disembodied laugh started to echo throughout the room, growing louder and louder until it reverberated off the walls.  She was about to turn around and bolt when his head, which was now detached from his neck, suddenly appeared before her eyes, causing her to jump.</p><p>     “Boo!”  His voice continued to echo throughout the room, but his mouth wasn’t moving.</p><p>     Satisfied that he had startled her, the echoing stopped, his body reappeared right in front of her, and his head settled back on his shoulders where it belonged. </p><p>     She tentatively stretched out a hand to touch his shoulder but it phased right through, meeting nothing but freezing cold air.  She immediately pulled it back and gaped at him.  Okay, so he wasn’t some kind of super talented magician, he was a real, honest-to-god ghost. </p><p>     “Like what you see?”</p><p>     Again she heard his voice in her ear, but his mouth didn’t move.  He was too busy lighting a cigarette he’d conjured from thin air, a smug smile on his face.</p><p>     “How did you do that?” she asked, more curious than frightened.</p><p>     “I’m full of tricks, doll.  You should see what I can do with my tongue, I think you’d like it,” he replied, blowing smoke in her face.</p><p>     She fought the urge to gag.  “No thanks.  If you’re a ghost, why do you need to smoke?”</p><p>     He scowled and vanished his cigarette just as quickly as he’d made it appear.  “I don’t <em>need </em>to smoke, I can quit anytime I want.”</p><p>     “Okay...So why is it such a big deal that I can see you?  You’re not exactly the most inconspicuous guy.”</p><p>     He laughed.“You're kidding, right?  That’s like rule number one.  Breathers don’t notice ghosts because they’re too busy running around being alive.  They don’t notice anything that’s strange or unusual, and even if they somehow can, they won’t be able to see me.  I’m not just a ghost, I’m a demon.  And I’ve been cursed; I can’t have any effect on the physical world unless someone living says my name three times, which sucks for me, because as the Netherworld’s leading bio-exorcist, my job is to scare you breathers out of homes, and I can’t scare anyone if I’m invisible.”</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘She can see me!’ Beetlejuice thought ecstatically.  ‘She can really see me!’.  He never would have imagined that this girl would be able to see him, never in a million years.  Lydia could, but he figured that was one of those once-in-a-deathtime type situations.  Yet here he stood, inches away from another breather who could see him.  It changed everything!  Gone was the plan to just try and scare her.  No, now he was going to get her to say his name, and he wasn’t going to leave until she did.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>     Willow crossed her arms.“If you’re cursed to be invisible, why can I see you?  How do you know the curse hasn’t been lifted?”</p><p>     “Because I just went through this whole damn town and no one looked twice at me.  Do I look like the type of guy who gets ignored?”  He wiggled his eyebrows and gestured to his body, making her laugh.No, there was no way someone could ignore him.  If he was living, he’d get the cops called on him in a second.  “But it doesn’t matter, all you have to do is say my name three times in a row and I’ll be back to my old self again!”</p><p>     She frowned.‘What’s your name?”</p><p>     The specter scowled at her.  “I can’t say it, that’s the problem!  But you can guess it!  We can play charades or something!”</p><p>     “No, I’m rubbish at charades.  I’ve got a better idea, let’s play hangman.”</p><p>     She grabbed a notepad and a pen from the coffee table and sat down on the sofa, gesturing for him to join her.  He floated over and sat down beside her, practically vibrating with excitement.</p><p>     “How many letters are in your name?” she asked as she drew a little gallows.</p><p>     He frowned and counted on his fingers, muttering to himself.  After a minute or two he looked up, smiling.</p><p>     “Eleven!”  he said proudly.</p><p>     Willow drew eleven little dashes beneath the gallows, then turned to him, her pen poised and ready to write.</p><p>     “Okay, here’s how we’ll do it: I’ll guess random letters, and if they’re in your name, you’ll point to where they belong.  Does that work for you?”</p><p>     The demon grinned.  “Yeah, let’s get started!”</p><p>     “Great, we’ll start with the vowels first.  Any A’s?”</p><p>     “Yes!  Wait, no.  Wait, yes.  Hold on...No.  Sorry, I can’t spell for shit.”</p><p>     “That’s fine, we’ll take it slow, I’m not in a hurry.  So no A’s.Any E’s?”</p><p>     “Yes!  I know for a fact there are some E’s!”</p><p>     They went back and forth like that for almost fifteen minutes, with a long pause here and there, and after drawing a complete figure including articles of clothing and a face, she finally had his name written out on paper.  Or at least, what she thought his name was.  After he divulged the fact he was a terrible speller, she couldn’t be sure. </p><p>     “Your name is Beetlejuice?”  she asked, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>     He shivered, a relieved smile spreading across his face.  For a moment, it seemed like his aura became sharper, as if he was more solid than he had been before.</p><p>     “Oh yeah, that’s it.  Say it again,”  he moaned.</p><p>     “Beetlejuice?  Really?You're kidding, that’s not your name.”</p><p>     “What, and yours is better?  What is it?  Lisa?  Or is it Sarah?  You look like a Sarah.”</p><p>     “No, my name is Willow.”</p><p>     “Ha, you’re named after a tree!  That’s dumb.”</p><p>     “Your name is Beetlejuice, I don’t think you have the right to criticize.”</p><p>     “It’s my middle name, my first name is Lawrence.  But who wants to go by Lawrence?  Especially a demon?  “Oh, no, it’s Larry!  Look out for Larry, he’s terrifying!” Said no one ever!  But it doesn’t matter, just say it three times in a row and I’m all yours, babes.  Then you and I will have all kinds of fun.”</p><p>     Willow pretended to consider it.  She wasn’t stupid, she wasn’t about to release him from his curse.  There was something clearly wrong with him, and she didn’t want him causing mayhem to the house she just finished settling into.  Besides, he must have been cursed for a reason.  Why would she release him from that without knowing for sure he wouldn’t stab her in the back?  It would be like handing a known murderer a knife and asking them not to kill you.  No, she wasn’t going to give him what he wanted.Not until she was sure it would be safe. </p><p>     “You’re passionate, I can respect that,” she said loftily.  “But my answer is no.  I’m not interested, sorry.”</p><p>     “You want me to beg?  I’ll beg, I’m not above groveling!”</p><p>     He fell to his knees at her feet and tried to tug at her ankles, but his hands simply phased right through them, making it feel like she’d just plunged ankle-deep into a pool of icy water. </p><p>     “Don’t be like that, babes!  I’ll do anything, please, just gimme a chance!”</p><p>     She scoffed.“No!  I don’t know anything about you, for all I know you’re a psycho murderer!Besides, what would I need a demon for?”</p><p>     He stood up and straightened his tie, his face set.“Fine, play hard to get.  Just know that I ain’t goin’ anywhere, babes.  I like this place, and you can see me, so I’ll be sticking around.  Sooner or later you’ll say my name.”</p><p>     He snapped his fingers and vanished.  She went back upstairs to bed, her mind reeling from what just happened.She’d had a conversation with a dead guy.  A really pervy dead guy who decided that since she could see him, he was going to move in.  With any luck, he’d realize she wasn’t going to fall for his schemes and just haunt someplace else.  Then everything could go back to normal.</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice watched, invisible, as Willow went back upstairs to her room, his mind racing.  Okay, so not off to the best start with her.  She’d figured out his name in no time, but she refused to say it.  No problem, he could deal with this.  He just had to charm her, that wouldn’t be too hard.  As soon as she was asleep again, he’d go back to going through her things.Rather than focusing on what would scare her, he’d focus on what kind of a person she was.  Once he determined her personality and her weaknesses, it would be easy to win her over. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     He waited an hour then quietly made his way upstairs, letting himself into her bedroom.  It was pretty boring, as bedrooms go.  Maybe it was because she just moved in, but all she had in the way of furniture was a bookshelf, a dresser, a bed, and a little table with a record player.  She had a box of records in the corner, a collection of snow-globes on the dresser, and a bunch of playbills from different plays and musicals on the bookshelf, but no photographs. ‘What, does she have no friends or family?  Where are the pics, Willow?’ he said to himself.It was a little sad.  He wasn’t an expert on breather behavior, but he knew most of them usually had all kinds of photos and junk showing off family vacations and friends.  ‘She’s pretty nice.  Sure, she threatened to bash my face in, but she thought I was a burglar.  She seems pretty chill otherwise.So how does she not have friends?  Is she defective or something?’ </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     And why didn’t she have anything interesting?  She collected snow-globes and playbills, what could be more boring than that?She may as well collect dolls.  Maybe she really </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>was</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> defective.  Why else would she have such sad hobbies?  Or maybe she was just hiding all the weird stuff where no one could see it!  If anyone had a weird sex kink thing, it was her.No one was this boring without having a gross kink or two in their closet. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice phased through her closet and then her dresser, but all he found was the usual clothing and shoes, no skeletons or kinks or anything fun.  Oh well, maybe she had a nice personality.  Not everyone could be as cool as he was.  He started looking at her books when she whimpered in her sleep, startling him.  He inched closer to her, studying her.  She looked so small and vulnerable, almost like a little puppy.  If she woke up and saw him, she’d have a heart attack.  That would be really funny.  It wouldn’t hurt to watch her sleep and get a good scream out of her once she finally got up.  Yeah, he just wanted to scare her.  He definitely didn’t want to watch her because she was cute and looked so peaceful. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Quietly, so as not to disturb her, he settled down on her bed, watching as she slept.  God/Satan, how long had it been since he was last seen by a living person?  At least twenty-five years, and that hadn’t gone over well.  Instead of just being happy that someone living had said his name, he’d tried to go for the big one and become living.  So of course the whole thing had blown up in his face and he’d gotten stabbed in the back.  Not this time, he was going to keep things simple and just be happy with her saying his name.  But if that was going to happen, he would need to be a little more appealing and a little less homicidal. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Willow stirred in her sleep, rolling over and coming face to face with him.  He smiled.  Why worry?  This was going to be easy.  She may act tough, but he could tell she was sensitive on the inside.  A good old-fashioned sob story would work on her, no problem.  That trick always worked on the sensitive types.  He’d have her saying his name in no time.  It was just going to take a little finesse.</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2:  The Start of A Ghoulish Friendship</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What do you do when you find yourself haunted by a ghostly demon?  Get to know him of course!  Willow and Beetlejuice spend the day together, and begin to realize that maybe they aren't so different after all.  At least they have the same taste in movies.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi!  People seemed to like the first chapter, so here's the next installment!  I'm going to do my best to post weekly from now on, but I figured posting the second chapter now would give everyone a better taste as to how this fic is going to be.  Hope everyone enjoys it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 2:The Start of A Ghoulish Friendship</p>
<p>     Everything did not go back to normal when Willow woke up.  After a particularly strange dream in which a raccoon was jumping up and down on her chest, demanding that she say its name (her subconscious was not only critiquing her situation but trying to make it <em>funny</em>) she opened her eyes to see Beetlejuice lying in bed next to her, his face an inch away from hers on the pillow.  </p>
<p>     “Mornin’, babes,”  he grinned.  “Sleep well?”</p>
<p>     She fell out of bed in alarm, causing him to erupt in hysterical laughter.  </p>
<p>     “What are you doing in my room?  Get out!”  she shouted, glaring daggers at him.</p>
<p>     “I was just watching you sleep, you don’t have to make it weird.”</p>
<p>     “Get out!”</p>
<p>     “Okay, okay!  Jesus Christ, you’re so touchy!”</p>
<p>     He threw something on the floor that erupted into a cloud of smoke, but when it cleared he was still there, frozen in place.</p>
<p>     “What the hell was that?”  Willow snorted, forgetting to be annoyed for a second.</p>
<p>     Beetlejuice scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.  “I’m just gonna use the door.”</p>
<p>     He bowed his head and left, sulking, leaving Willow confused.  What had he been doing?And why was he in bed with her?  He wasn’t tangible, so she wasn’t worried he'd tried anything with her, but that didn’t reassure her.  She didn’t like the idea of him watching her, it was too weird.  She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, that maybe he’d gotten lonely or something during the night and wanted to be close to her, but she knew better than that.  He’d proven to be a gross pervert last night, so she shouldn’t be surprised that he had chosen to break into her room and get into bed with her.  </p>
<p>     Willow got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen so she could put the kettle on for tea.  She didn’t see Beetlejuice anywhere, but she figured that didn’t mean much.  He seemed to have all kinds of powers and a penchant for terrifying people, so he was probably just invisible, waiting to jump out at the perfect time so he could scare her.  Is this what her life was going to be like from now on?  No, if she had to live with a demon-ghost-thing, she wasn't going to be in a constant state of paranoia.  They had to learn to get along.</p>
<p>     “Hey, Beetlejuice?  We need to talk,” she called out, leaning against the kitchen counter.</p>
<p>     He appeared instantly, bouncing with excitement.  “You changed your mind!  Awesome, I knew you would!”</p>
<p>     Willow scoffed.  “Don’t get worked up, I haven't changed my mind about anything.  I think we should lay down some ground rules, since you're obviously not going anywhere.”</p>
<p>     The demon rolled his eyes.  “Is this about this morning?  What else was I supposed to do?  You don't have a tv, I gotta watch <em>something</em>.”</p>
<p>     “The rules are simple: don't watch me sleep and don't watch me in the bathroom.  Got it?  That’s just creepy.”</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice bit back a laugh.  ‘Ah, babes, Ive already seen you in the bathroom, he wanted to say.  ‘You're sexy as hell.’  But if he told her that, she would absolutely hate him, and he didn't want her to hate him.  She was actually letting him stay, which he hadn't expected, and he wasn't going to blow it by saying or doing something to piss her off.  All he had to do was follow her rules and shed be saying his name in no time, and once she did, he wouldn't need to follow the damn rules.  He could do whatever the hell he wanted and she couldn't stop him.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>     “Those are the only rules?  You're not even going to forbid me from scaring you?”  he asked, surprised.</p>
<p>     She shrugged.  “Why should I?  You said you miss it.  It’s your thing, I don’t want to take it away from you.  Especially since I think we could be friends if we got to know each other better.  Maybe I’ll say your name if we become close enough.”</p>
<p>     “Sounds like a deal!  Let's shake on it!”</p>
<p>     He held out a grimy hand to her, grinning toothily.  She raised an eyebrow, edging slightly away.</p>
<p>     “How am I supposed to do that?  You're a ghost, I cant touch you.”</p>
<p>     “Oh, right.  Then we'll make it a verbal deal.  Still binding.”</p>
<p>     He had to be joking.  Did he really think she was that stupid?  She’d watched <em>Supernatural</em>, and her parents had attempted to give her some kind of a religious upbringing before they gave her up as a lost cause, so she knew better than to make a deal with a demon.  </p>
<p>     “No, I’m not making any deals with you, I wasn't born yesterday.  No deals, no promises, none of that.  I'm giving you an incentive to be on your best behavior.  Don’t act like a total psycho, prove that I can trust you, and maybe I’ll say your name if I think you deserve it."</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘She's good,’  he thought, amused.  He wasn’t going to be able to fool her like he could other breathers.  She was a lot like Lydia in that respect.  But he’d managed to win her over eventually, so he could do it with Willow too.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>     Beetlejuice crossed his arms, smirking.  “You remind me of a girl I used to know.  She liked to play hardball too.  Fine, Ill play by your rules.”</p>
<p>     She nodded.  “Good.  I wont say your name, but I want to give you a nickname so I can call you something at least.  How about BJ?  Or Beej?  Are those okay?”</p>
<p>     He sighed.  “Yeah, they're better than nothing.  Can’t be too picky, can I, babes?”</p>
<p>     She scowled at him.  “Why do you call me that?  I’ve told you my name is Willow.”</p>
<p>     “Because I like watching you squirm.  I may as well have some fun."</p>
<p>     The kettle started to whistle, allowing Willow the chance to focus on something other than this demon who clearly lacked boundaries.  ‘Whats the point of him having any “fun”?’ she thought mildly, busying herself with the kettle.  Did he really think he’d get anywhere with the flirting and the inappropriate comments?  Did he forget about the fact she couldn’t touch him even if she wanted to?  Or maybe it wasn’t about that at all.  He was invisible to normal people, so obviously he was starving for attention, and any kind of attention would do.  Even if it was revulsion and disdain.  So why not give him what he wanted?  Maybe if she treated him like she would anybody else, he would calm down and stop being so gross.  </p>
<p>     “Can I ask you some questions?  They’re a little personal, so feel free to say no,”  she said, taking a seat at the kitchen table and gesturing for him to do the same.</p>
<p>     He smirked, sitting across from her.  “Get as personal as you want, I don’t care.  I’ve got nothing to hide.”</p>
<p>     “Why were you cursed?"</p>
<p>     “Because according to my old boss I’m a “loose cannon” and “can’t be trusted" and “I should never have been born”.  It was the best punishment she could come up with.  She wanted to make sure she and anyone else never saw me again, so she cursed me to walk amongst the living, invisible and powerless.  If it hadn't been for the mess that I got into in the eighties, I never would've been allowed back into the Netherworld.  But now I can kinda zip back there whenever I want, if she’s not paying attention.”</p>
<p>     ‘Wow, talk about getting fired from your job,’ she thought dryly.</p>
<p>     “You told me you're a demon, and that you're also dead.  How does that work?  I mean, did you die first and then became a demon?  Were you born a demon and then died?  What’s your story?"</p>
<p>     “Neither, I was born a dead demon.  But then I was alive for like a minute and got killed, and then I got sent to the Netherworld because, you know, bureaucracy, and now I’m back where I started.  Well, not <em>exactly</em> where I started, I was in Connecticut before, but Massachusetts is still New England, so it counts.  They really like plopping me down here, I have no idea why."</p>
<p>     She stared at him.  “I’m sorry, what?  Go back, you were <em>murdered</em>?"</p>
<p>     Beetlejuice smiled wistfully, looking off into a corner of the room as if reliving a cheerful memory.  “Yeah, I married this girl so I could come to life, and then immediately after that she stabbed me with an ugly statue.  It’s okay though, because life is really stressful, and I am <em>not </em>ready to go through it again.  It hurt like a motherfucker though, I wouldn’t recommend dying that way.  Try to go for a painless death in your sleep.”</p>
<p>     “Okay, then.”</p>
<p>     ‘Sorry I asked,’ she said to herself, sipping her tea.  At least he seemed to have learned his lesson.  It was bad enough that he was trying to get her to say his name, she didn’t want to have to deal with him trying to marry her too.  That was the last thing she needed right now.</p>
<p>     His eyes snapped back into focus and he grinned at her, resting his chin in his hands like a gossiping teenager.  “So, what about you?  Are you, like, a pretentious snob or something?  You’ve got no tv, no pictures of family or friends, none of that.  All you’ve got is a shit-ton of  playbills.  Whats the story there?  Are you emotionally stunted?  Are you one of those weirdos who can’t get close to people emotionally so their only outlet is live theatre?”</p>
<p>     She rolled her eyes.  “No, I’m pretty sure people like that don’t exist.  I don’t have a tv because I’ve got the worst luck in the world.  It broke the first day I moved in; the movers dropped the box it was in and the screen shattered.  I was going to keep it and just deal with it, because honestly it looked kind of cool, like it had spiderwebs on the screen, but I decided to just chuck it and now I’m waiting until I can replace it.  </p>
<p>     “And for your information, I have pictures of family and friends.  They’re all on my phone and laptop, I just don’t display them because I’m not that kind of person.  It’s probably weird, but I don’t need them hanging around.  If I’m feeling nostalgic or whatever, I’ll look at them on my own time.  Plus I’m in a lot of them, and apart from hating how I look in them, I think it would be weird to have pictures of myself hanging around my own house.  I don’t know, I never really understood the whole putting up pictures thing.  Maybe it stems from when I was growing up and my parents mostly had photos of my sister around the house and only one or two of me.</p>
<p>     “As for my playbills, I have so many because I collect them.  It's a hobby of mine.  Some people collect stamps or trading cards, I collect theatre memorabilia.  I love musicals and plays, theatre is how I escape from how shitty my life has been.  Why is it weird to want to have things that make me happy?”</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Okay, got a lot of good stuff from her so far.  I was right about the sensitive part, and she’s definitely got a low self-esteem, but that’s nothing I can’t work with.And the shitty life thing?  She’s got trauma along with some serious parent issues, which means swapping sob stories, which means I am getting closer to having her say my name!’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     But Beetlejuice wasn’t going to be too hasty about it, either.  If she said his name now, he’d be back to his old self, but she’d no doubt force him to leave, and he couldn’t have that.  Sure, it would be nice to get his powers back, but not if it meant he had to be alone again.  He was tired of being alone.  He wanted a friend, someone he could talk to and connect with, and Willow seemed like she wanted that too.  Why throw that away?</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>     “So you’re not a snob, you’re just a weirdo,”  he teased, grinning even wider.</p>
<p>     She giggled.  “No, the only weirdo here is you.”</p>
<p>     “Babes, you’ve got a demon in your kitchen, and instead of freaking out, you’re making small talk with him.  That officially makes you a weirdo.”</p>
<p>     He was right, of course.  If it had been her sister Cora who was sharing her house with a demon, she would have a heart attack, burn her house down, and then proceed to call an exorcist to remove the demon from what remained of the place.  Willow simply wanted to get to know the guy.  Besides, now that they’d had a chance to talk, it seemed like for a demon, he wasn’t all that bad (apart from him being a big pervert, of course).  There were way worse things out there than him, almost all of them human.  Why force him to leave?</p>
<p>     “Fair enough.  I don't mind admitting that Im strange,” she conceded.</p>
<p>     “What are you doing in this town?  Wouldn’t New York be better for you to indulge in your theatre obsession?  I can’t imagine this dump has a theater.”</p>
<p>     “I needed a fresh start.  I broke up with my partner last September, and then my dad died a few months ago, and I wasn’t going anywhere at my old job, so when I was offered a position at the library here, I took it.  It seemed like a good fit for me.”</p>
<p>     “You’re a librarian too?  God/Satan you’re so boring!  Oh well, got any more questions for <em>me</em>?  Want to know what it’s like to die?  Or where you’re going to go?  Want to know how it feels to get murdered?  Want to hear some more stories about me?  How about the time I slept with Katharine Hepburn?”  he asked excitedly, leaning closer with every question until he was practically lying on the table.</p>
<p>     She cringed.  “No thanks, I’m good.  I don’t need to know about your sex life, and I’d rather not know anything about dying or the afterlife.  Why ruin the surprise?”</p>
<p>     He shrugged, sitting up properly.  “Fine, I’ll just save that for another day.  Can we watch something on your laptop?  I’m bored with talking!”</p>
<p>     “Sure.  How do you feel about <em>Buffy the Vampire Slayer</em>?”</p>
<p>     “Young Sarah Michelle Gellar.  Hot.  Guy who plays Giles, also hot.  I can get behind that.”</p>
<p>     Normally Willow liked to spend her weekend catching up on reading and writing, saving the streaming for weeknights when she needed to unwind from work, but she didn’t mind spending time with her new house guest.  She’d gotten used to the idea of sharing the house with Beetlejuice surprisingly quickly, which she didn’t entirely understand.  She didn’t trust him, she wasn’t crazy enough to do that, but she also didn’t mind having him around.  He tried to act like a bad guy, but there was something about him that seemed lonely.  He wanted a friend.  If their pseudo-relationship played out in a way that ended with them being friends, it would be beneficial for both of them.  He’d get his powers back, and she’d have a demon on speed dial to help her out once in a while.</p>
<p>     “Cool, <em>Buffy </em>it is.  Let me grab my laptop,” she smiled.</p>
<p>     They spent the rest of the morning and some of the afternoon huddled together on the couch, the laptop on the coffee table in front of them, eyes fixed on the screen as Buffy dusted vampires and foiled the plots of evil creatures and demons.  At first they watched in silence, but soon enough they started a banter, one of them making a joke or comment, making the other laugh.  Two episodes later the banter evolved into a running commentary, feeding off of each other to keep it going.  It was more enjoyable than actually watching the show.  Beetlejuice was pretty funny, not that she would ever admit it to him out loud, and he knew a surprising amount of pop culture references for a dead guy.  One joke he’d made in particular, referring to Angel as a sexy, emotionally-stunted Edward Cullen with split-personality disorder almost had her in tears.</p>
<p>     “How do you keep up with pop culture when you’re dead?”  she asked once her giggles had subsided. </p>
<p>     He shrugged.  “Like everyone else.  You think breathers are the only ones with internet and tv?  They’ve got that in the Netherworld too.  They’re not as fancy, it’s mostly obsolete technology down there, but they get the job done.  Eternity is easier when you’ve got something to distract you from it.”</p>
<p>     Fair enough.  She didn't want to ask him about the Netherworld, having no desire to know about what awaited her when she finally left the mortal coil, but she didn’t mind knowing that once she got there technology would still be available to keep her occupied.  It was a lot more appealing than the idea of wandering around aimlessly for eternity.  Obviously it didn’t make her eager to get to the Netherworld anytime soon, but it was comforting to know the internet was always going to be there when she needed it.</p>
<p>     Around one-thirty Willow paused the show to make a sandwich in the kitchen, and as she did so Beetlejuice watched her, hanging upside down over the back of the couch so he could have the best view of what she was doing.</p>
<p>     “I’m bored again, can we watch a movie?  A scary movie?” he asked, giving her demon puppy-dog eyes.</p>
<p>     “He’s like a little kid,” she chuckled to herself, joining him on the couch with her sandwich in hand.  If he got bored this easily, she couldn’t imagine how he must’ve felt wandering around, unable to be seen or heard by anyone he came across.  </p>
<p>     She shrugged.  “Fine with me.  Monster movie, kaiju movie, slasher film, psychological thriller, vintage haunted house movie, pick your poison.  I’ve got all kinds.  Just no possession movies, I hate those.  I’m not religious or anything, but they still hit a little too close to home for me.  Plus my dad made me watch <em>The Exorcist</em> when I was six, and I never fully recovered.”</p>
<p>     He pouted.  “Those aren’t scary, those are lame.  What about the gore?  The blood and guts?  The phantom pain you get when you watch someone get their limbs cut off?  The thrilling rush you get along your spine when you realize that just one little slice of a blade won’t necessarily kill you, but can completely disfigure you and force you to live alone for the rest of your life until you become a monster?  <em>That’s </em>a real horror movie."</p>
<p>     “Ew, no!  Gore is lazy and cheap.  If your story and characters are so weak that you have to rely on grossing people out in order to make them feel anything, you’re just feeding them garbage.  I like the old horror movies, the ones that relied on a storyline to scare you.  I want to feel the suspense when the monster is creeping up on the unsuspecting couple making out in the car, or when the killer is right behind the girl in the basement and she’s too dumb to turn around.  Real fear is in suspense, not nausea.”</p>
<p>     “No, you’re wrong!  I’m the thousand-year-old demon with the scaring experience here, and let me tell you, body horror and gore <em>always </em>freaks people out.  Every. Single. Time.  Freaks them out so bad they can go crazy.  Like during the Black Plague, with all the bloody, distorted bodies of the victims who died?  That got people <em>real </em>fucked up, we’re talking some quality hysteria.  And the fact that it kept coming back was even better!  I haven't had as much fun since then.”</p>
<p>     ‘Is he really a thousand years old?’  she wondered.  He certainly didn’t <em>look </em>like he was a thousand years old.  Sure, he looked <em>dead</em>, with his bloodless complexion, sunken eyes, and what seemed to be moss growing on his temples, but he didn’t look <em>old</em>.  If she didn’t know better, she would have pegged him as only thirty-five at the most.  Still, age and experience aside, he wasn’t going to win this argument.  She refused to give him the satisfaction.</p>
<p>     “That’s not fear, that’s trauma!  They’re completely different!”  she insisted.  “Fear just affects you for the moment, trauma scars you for life.  We can go back and forth on this all day, but you aren’t going to change my mind.  Old horror movies are better than new ones, and that’s it.  Don’t agree?  Keep your wrong opinion to yourself.”</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Oh, my opinion is wrong, huh?  She’ll see,’ Beetlejuice thought, smiling slyly.  ‘I know just what to do to change her mind.'</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>     He chose <em>The Mummy </em>(the Boris Karloff version), which surprised Willow since he’d been so keen on seeing blood and guts and body horror.  She’d tried suggesting they watch a slasher movie instead so he could get his fix from that, but he was adamant that he wanted to watch to so she didn’t press him.</p>
<p>     “It’s a classic,”  he insisted, but something about the gleam in his eyes as he said it didn’t quite fit.  He was planning something, she was sure of it, and he just wanted to make her think she’d won.</p>
<p>     Before she started it she went back out to the kitchen, wanting to grab a bottle of water and some snacks so she wouldn’t have to get up while it was playing.  She heard the demon giggling in the living room which confirmed her suspicion that he was plotting a prank of some sort, but pretended not to notice, pouring some chips into a bowl.  Why spoil his fun now?  She may as well let him have this, since his hopes were about to be completely shattered.  Besides, it was a little cute seeing how excited he was getting in the moment.  She almost didn’t want to ruin it.</p>
<p>     Unable to stall any longer, Willow opened the fridge and came face-to-face with Beetlejuice’s severed head, which was steadily dripping blood onto the leftovers she’d planned on eating for dinner.  His eyes had been plucked out, and their empty sockets were teeming with writhing, squirming maggots.  His mouth was sagging open, flies crawling around his greenish-black tongue.  She would’ve been horrified if he had chosen a subject other than himself, and if she hadn’t been anticipating it.  Still, she had to admire his effort.  This was some Stephen King level scaring.</p>
<p>     “Beej, please get your head out of my fridge,” she said calmly, grabbing her water.  “And get rid of the blood and the bugs while you’re at it.”</p>
<p>     The scene vanished in a puff of green smoke and the demon appeared behind her, his head back to normal and back on his body, pouting.</p>
<p>     “You were supposed to be scared,”  he huffed, crossing his arms.</p>
<p>     “Why would that scare me?  You’re a demon, and you’re already dead, so you can’t even decompose!  Besides, I knew you were going to try something like that!”  she replied exasperatedly.</p>
<p>     “Fine, well what about this!”</p>
<p>     His face exploded, the flesh peeling away to reveal writhing, hissing, green snakes.  She jumped at the initial explosion of snakes, taken by surprise, but that surprise quickly faded once they started wiggling toward her, trying to bite her, causing her to burst into hysterical laughter.  The snakes stopped moving, then retracted, Beetlejuice’s face returning to normal.</p>
<p>     “Oh, come on!  How was <em>that </em>funny?  That was pure nightmare fuel!”  he protested.</p>
<p>     Willow laughed harder, clutching at her sides.  “I’m sorry!” she gasped.  “It’s just...the way they were wiggling around...they looked like those decorations in used car lots!”</p>
<p>     “You’re unbelievable.”</p>
<p>     He was trying to sound angry, but she could tell he was impressed.  How many people could laugh as a demon tried his best to scare the living daylights out of them?  Probably not a lot.</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘She’s so great.  Any girl who can look at a rotting, bleeding, maggot-covered severed head without blinking an eye, or reacts to a snake-pit face by laughing her ass off, is amazing,’ Beetlejuice thought dreamily, trying hard not to smile.  He kind of figured she was different from other breathers, since she had the power to see him, and now he was finally beginning to see just how different she was.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>     “Snakes don’t scare me, they’re just scaly noodles,”  she giggled.  “Sorry.”</p>
<p>     “Well, what <em>does </em>scare you?”</p>
<p>     As if she’d tell him.  She wasn’t about to divulge her deepest and darkest fears to a demon who would only use them against her.  How stupid did he think she was?  If he wanted to scare her, <em>truly </em>scare her, he was just going to have to figure out how to do that by himself.  If he was as experienced as he claimed, he shouldn’t have any trouble.  </p>
<p>     “I’m not going to tell you.  If you want to terrorize me, you’re going to have to put in some effort.  Now come on, we’ve got a movie to watch.”</p>
<p>     They went back into the living room and watched <em>The Mummy</em>, giving it the same treatment they had given <em>Buffy the Vampire Slayer</em>, then moved on to <em>Frankenstein</em>, then <em>Bride of Frankenstein</em>, which bored him and caused him to turn on <em>Nightmare on Elm Street</em> so he could get back in the mood for watching movies, and then finally to <em>Friday the 13th</em> (Beetlejuice had insisted on that one, and Willow just couldn’t say no, despite hating it because it never made any sense to her).  After <em>Friday the 13th</em> he begged to watch just one more, but she couldn’t do it.  She’d started to doze halfway through the movie, and couldn’t even recall what had happened in the last twenty minutes, even though she’d seen it before.  It was time for her to go to bed.</p>
<p>     “I need to sleep, I’m beat,”  she yawned, rubbing her eyes.  “We can pick this up again tomorrow.”</p>
<p>     The demon pouted.  “Come on, you can’t give up on me now!  We were just getting started!”</p>
<p>     She shook her head.  “No, I can’t get through another movie, I’m exhausted.  If you want, I’ll put one on for you to watch, but I can’t do it.  Sorry.”</p>
<p>     “No, I don’t want to watch one without you.”</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Willow really did look tired, and he knew she wouldn’t give in.  She needed to go to bed, and he knew that, but he didn’t want her to.  He could sleep too, he did that sometimes to pass the time, but he didn’t feel like it.  They were just starting to get to know each other, he wanted to keep spending time with her!</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>     “How about I give you your own room?”  she suggested.  “I’ve got a guest room upstairs that’s going to waste.  You can do whatever you want in it, it’ll be your space.  That’ll help you pass some of the time by yourself.”</p>
<p>     He grinned.  “I would love that!  I need a place for all of my stuff.”</p>
<p>     ‘He has stuff?’ she thought absently.  For a brief moment she considered asking him just what kind of stuff he had, and what he even needed, being a dead demon, but figured it was better to let it go.  She most likely didn’t want to know.</p>
<p>     “Great.  Come with me.”</p>
<p>     She led him upstairs to the guest bedroom, which was across the hall from where her bedroom was.  Up until now she’d planned on it being used when her sister Cora or her best friend Luna came for a prolonged visit, but Beetlejuice needed it more and would actually be putting it to some use.  At least with his own space to do with as he pleased he’d be more likely to stay out of her hair and out of her personal space.  Additionally, it made sense for him to inhabit it, since he was now a guest in the home.  It only made sense to make him feel welcome.</p>
<p>     “It’s all yours,”  she said, opening the door and ushering him inside.  “Have fun.”</p>
<p>     It didn’t have much:  a full bed with a plain white bedspread and sheets, a bedside table and lamp, and an empty bookshelf, all left over from the previous owners, but at least it was something.  Hopefully giving him free rein on a portion of the house would make him less likely to try and destroy something while she slept. Or that he would at least stop going through her stuff.</p>
<p>     He flopped down on the bed, taking in his surroundings. “This is amazing.  Thanks a lot, babes.”</p>
<p>     “Don’t mention it.  Good night.”</p>
<p>     She closed the door on him and went into her own bedroom, satisfied in her decision.  She changed into pajamas and settled into bed, smiling as she snuggled down into her blankets and pillows.  It had been a very good day.  Maybe having a demon in the house wasn’t going to be so bad after all.</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice gazed around the room, still hardly able to believe that the whole area was his.It wasn’t much to look at, in fact, it reminded him of a motel room, but it was better than being out on the streets again.And once he put a few personal touches on it, it would be perfect.A little home away from home while he worked on getting his powers back.And that seemed like an even more real possibility than it had last night.After spending the day with her, he found Willow to be exactly his type of person: nice, a little dark and weird, and with just the right sense of humor to not lost her shit over a small joke or two.If they continued to carry on the way they had today, he’d be back to his old self in no time and he’d have a new friend to show for it.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He wouldn’t want to start getting his hopes up too high though.This was only day one of getting to know each other, a lot could change as time went on.Just because she was cool with a few of his tricks didn’t mean she was on board for all of his antics.Humans were funny like that.Yet there was definitely some good chemistry between the two of them, and he was eager to take things to the next level.But he’d worry about all of that later.There would be plenty of time to befriend her since she’d agreed to let him stay here.Right now, all he wanted to do was settle into his new room and take a nap.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He snapped his fingers, his things from the Netherworld appearing instantly on the bedroom floor.Almost all of it was junk: dirty, disgusting laundry that rarely saw the light of day, let alone a washing machine; magazines so old they’d turned yellow; knickknacks and random objects he’d picked up or stolen along the way because they looked cool but didn’t actually have any real use; and some things that were so old or covered in dust and grime that it was impossible to say what they were; yes, it was mostly junk, but it was </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>his</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> junk.He even summoned his clones and stuffed them in the closet for safekeeping (without his juice they were mostly for show).After he was finished he changed into some musty sweatpants and an equally ratty t-shirt and settled into bed. </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Oh yeah, a demon can get used to this,” he grinned.</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3: "Why Does Everyone Keep Leaving Me?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Monday come and me wanna go to work! The weekend is over, and Willow has to go back to work.  Beetlejuice wants to come with her, but she refuses, and he decides to take matters into his own hands.  If someone thinks you're a distraction, why not be a major distraction?  What could go wrong?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger warning: panic attack.  It's not described in detail, and it's written from the perspective of a witness, but I'm putting this here just in case.  I'm not out to cause anyone distress here.</p>
<p>Hope you folks like this!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 3:  “Why Does Everyone Keep Leaving Me?!”</p>
<p>     Monday came far too quickly for Willow.  She and Beetlejuice had spent Sunday in almost the same way as they had Saturday;  watching movies and just generally enjoying each other’s company.  For the most part, anyway.  He’d made another attempt to scare her by making cockroaches explode out of the bathroom sink while she was brushing her teeth, but once he realized that she wasn’t afraid of the bugs crawling everywhere and simply irritated and mildly grossed out, he vanished them and left to sulk in the living room.  She yelled at him for ten minutes straight for that little stunt and punished him by forcing him to sit through movie musicals until he apologized (he was only able to get through <em>Hello, Dolly!, </em>which he seemed to really enjoy, and half of the first number of <em>The Sound of Music </em>before cracking).  After that everything was fine.  </p>
<p>     But Monday had come once again, and with Monday came her alarm to get up for work, and for once, she just didn’t feel like going.  She wanted to stay home and hang out with Beetlejuice some more.  It was almost like having a new pet, in the way that she didn’t want to leave him home alone all day.  Not just because of all the mischief he was sure to get into when she wasn’t there (she didn’t care that he couldn’t touch anything in the house, she didn’t want to come home to another cockroach mess), but because he was almost certainly going to get lonely.  </p>
<p>     She’d noticed that he was pretty clingy; he followed her around the house, no matter what she was doing, and he was constantly seeking attention.  It wouldn’t surprise her if he had separation anxiety.  She briefly considered calling in sick, but squashed that idea as soon as it entered into her head.  She’d just started working at Woodview Public Library, how would it look if she called in sick already?  Besides, she had to give some kindergartners a tour today, she couldn’t let them down.  So she very reluctantly crawled out of bed and got ready, then went downstairs to the kitchen for a quick cup of tea.</p>
<p>     Willow didn’t expect to see Beetlejuice out of his room this early (in fact, she’d counted on being able to just leave a note and make a quick getaway), but the moment she stepped into the kitchen he appeared at the table, dressed in grimy black sweatpants, a ratty grey t-shirt, and a pair of socks riddled with holes.  It was the first time she saw him in clothes that weren’t his weird, ancient striped suit, and she wasn’t surprised that these were gross and dirty too.  Did he own anything that was clean?</p>
<p>     “We’re up early.  What’s the plan?  Why do you look so nice?  Purple is definitely your colour.  Wait, did you get all dressed up just for <em>me</em>?” he asked, pretending to blush.  “I’m touched, but you didn’t have to go through all that trouble.  You’d look just as nice completely nak-”</p>
<p>     She cut him off.  “Yeah, you can stop right there.  I didn’t get dressed up for you.  It’s Monday, I have to go to work.”</p>
<p>     He jumped to his feet and snapped his fingers, his loungewear replaced with his striped suit.  “Work?  Can I come too?  I won’t make any trouble, I promise!”</p>
<p>     “You’re joking, right?  You’re a demon, you exist to make trouble!  Do you remember what you did yesterday?”</p>
<p>     “But I won’t, I swear!  I’ll be on my best behaviour, I promise!  Come on, babes, please?”</p>
<p>     She couldn’t even consider the possibility of letting him come with her.  It didn’t matter if no one else could see him, or that he wasn’t able to have any effect on the physical world, he would be a major distraction if she brought him to the library.  He was just too unpredictable and crazy.  She didn’t want to have to worry about him and what he was doing while she was supposed to be focused on her job.  If she was going to babysit him, he would need her full attention, and she simply couldn’t afford to do that while on the clock.</p>
<p>     “No, you’re not coming to work with me, and that’s final.  I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to stay here,” she said firmly.</p>
<p>     Beetlejuice deflated, slumping back down in the chair.  His hair and scruff turned from acid green to dusty purple, and he sighed moodily.  Willow took a small step back, surprised.  Up until this point, she’d never seen his hair any shade other than the usual green.  ‘His hair is purple.  Why is his hair purple?  How did he do that?’</p>
<p>     “Are you okay?  Your hair changed color,” she said timidly.</p>
<p>     He suddenly straightened up, a look of panic frozen on his face.  He snapped his fingers and a grey ‘GUIDE’ hat with a small black brim appeared on his head, covering most of his hair except for a tuft in the front.  </p>
<p>     “What?  That’s ridiculous, my hair doesn’t do that, prove that it did!  Pics or it didn’t happen!  I’m not on trial here!  I want a lawyer!  What are you still doing here?  Go to work!”  he babbled.</p>
<p>     Clearly it was a touchy subject for him.  Judging by his reaction, his ability to change the color of his hair wasn’t voluntary.  She had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with his emotions, since he had been upset when it happened, but she’d have to keep an eye out for it just to be sure.  Maybe if she could keep track of his emotions, she’d be able to understand him better.  At the very least she’d be able to avoid offending him.</p>
<p>     “Okay, sorry I mentioned it.  I have to go, but I’ll be home by six.  Do you want me to set up my laptop for you so you can watch something until I get back?”</p>
<p>     “Nah, I think I can keep myself entertained.”</p>
<p>     He had that mischievous gleam in his eyes again, and the small tuft of his hair that wasn’t covered by the hat was back to green, but Willow didn’t have time to interrogate him about his plans.  She just had to hope he wouldn’t do something stupid or dangerous.</p>
<p>     “Okay.  See you later.”</p>
<p>     She slung her bag onto her shoulder and grabbed her keys, looking back at Beetlejuice one final time before heading out.  He waved cheekily at her, smiling toothily.  Praying he wouldn’t somehow find a way to burn the house down or blow up the street while she was away she left, locking the door behind her.</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘So she thinks I’m a distraction?’ Beetlejuice thought angrily, getting rid of his hat and glaring at the door.  ‘I’ll show her.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Who was she to expect him to stay cooped up in this house until she came back?  What, </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>she</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> was allowed to come and go as she pleased but he had to stay inside and hope she would return?  He wasn’t a dog, he wasn’t going to wait anxiously by the door for her to come strolling in whenever she felt like it.  She wasn’t the boss of him, she was just a simple breather.  He was a demon, he could do whatever he wanted!  Okay, maybe his powers were pretty limited right now, but he could still do some stuff!  And he was going to prove it to her.  He was going to make her pay for treating him like he didn’t matter.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     After skulking around the house for an hour, and trying (unsuccessfully) to break some of Willow’s snowglobes (being unable to have any effect on the world of the living </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>sucked</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>), he teleported to the front of the Woodview Public Library. It was a good thing that he had to search through the entire town before he found Willow, or else he wouldn’t even know where it was.  Not that it seemed to be that interesting of a place.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Staring up at the moderately-sized, two-storey brick building, he didn’t understand why she wanted to work there so much.  Couldn’t she have a more exciting job as a cop or a doctor or something, instead of being holed up in a building surrounded by dusty old books?  Did people still even use libraries?  Judging from the parking lot, which only had a few cars and a small school bus, they didn’t.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Ebooks are a thing, wake up, America!”  Beetlejuice grumbled to himself as he strolled inside.  “We don’t need libraries anymore!”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     The inside of the library wasn’t much more exciting than the outside.  There was a help desk and a book drop-off bin right as he walked in, manned by an elderly woman with thick, giant glasses who was reading a large-print romance novel.  From there he could either venture out into the rest of the first floor, or head up the staircase on the right to the second floor.  ‘May as well start at the bottom,’ he decided.  ‘It’s not like she can hide in a place like this.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     The first floor was split up into four sections: childrens’ fiction, newspapers and magazines, DVDs and audiobooks, and quiet study rooms.  The study rooms were mostly empty, except for a few college-age kids working on projects, and the only people in the newspaper and magazine section were elderly patrons.  A quick stroll through the shelves of DVDs and audiobooks also turned up nothing, so he turned his attention to the children's fiction area.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     The bookshelves down there were smaller (easier for the kids to grab things), and there were colourful posters and displays on the walls promoting the “joy” of reading (‘Because </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>that’s</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> what the world needs, more </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>nerds</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>!’), a carpet with a different letter of the alphabet and number at every step, a life-size chess board and pieces, hand puppets and other “reading buddies”, and a reading area in the corner with little tables and chairs.  It was so cute it was nauseating.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     In the reading area a bunch of little kids were sitting in a circle in front of a rocking chair, occupied by a young female librarian with olive skin, straight black hair, and dimples, who was reading aloud from a book of fairy tales in an annoyingly cheerful voice.  He ignored them and continued his search of the lower floor, checking between the shelves for Willow, but she was nowhere to be seen.  Maybe little kids weren’t her scene and she was upstairs where the adult section had to be. </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He snaked his way back around to the front of the building and traipsed up the stairs.  Similar to the first floor, the second had a help desk and drop-off bin, and (according to the signs) was also split into four sections: young adult fiction, non-fiction and reference books, adult fiction, and a section of just computers, printers, and copiers.  This time he was in luck: Willow was at the help desk, scanning a stack of books out for a short, balding rat-faced guy with glasses.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Bingo!  Time to have some fun!” he cackled, willing himself invisible.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He popped up behind her and blew a stream of cold air down the back of her neck, giggling with delight when she jumped and shivered, jerking behind her to see what had caused the discomfort.  Her eyes looked right through him and for a moment he regretted wanting to punish her, but he swallowed it down.  This is what she deserved for leaving him alone.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Are you okay?”  Rat-Face asked, peering at her with his beady eyes.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She turned back around, a customer-service smile plastered on her face.  “Yes, sorry about that.  I got a chill, that’s all.  I think the air-conditioning is set a little too high in here.  You’re all set, Mr. Porter.  These are all due back in two weeks.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Rat-Face gathered up his books and left.  Willow’s smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful frown.  She rubbed at the back of her neck where she’d been breathed on, casting a furtive glance behind her to try and find the source, but Beetlejuice was already moving on from that joke.  He floated above her, conjuring a green and black spider half the size of his palm.  It skittered around his fingers for a moment before lowering itself down onto the top of her head, where it stood there, motionless.  He floated back down and sat on the desk in front of her to better watch the show, rubbing his hands together.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     The spider began crawling its way through her hair, creeping closer and closer to her forehead.  How she didn’t feel it moving around up there he had no idea, but that was just going to make the whole thing that much funnier.  It finally broke free of her hairline and crept down her forehead and onto her nose, where it remained there, quivering slightly.  Her entire body tensed, and for a second Beetlejuice was sure she was going to cry.  She clutched onto the edge of the desk so hard that her knuckles turned white, and a small whimper escaped her mouth as she went cross-eyed trying to keep it in her sights.  There was no mistaking the absolute terror in her eyes.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Well, well, looks like I found one of your fears, babes,” he chuckled.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     The spider continued on its way, crawling over her mouth and down her chin and neck, reaching her shoulder.  Willow merely sat frozen in place, her eyes bulging out of her head as she followed its progress.  While it had been funny to watch at first, it was quickly getting boring.  Why wasn’t she screaming?  Or moving?  Why didn’t she just smack the thing away from her?  That’s what normal people did when they had bugs crawling all over them.  Maybe one wasn’t enough.  Maybe she would respond to more of them.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He waved his hand and four more spiders appeared in her lap, creeping all over each other before shooting up her arms to join the first spider on her shoulder.  She blanched, her lips trembled, and her pupils contracted to tiny little pinpricks.  She was breathing quickly and sharply through her nose, and he could hear her heart as it hammered in her chest.  This wasn’t fear anymore; she was having a full-blown anxiety attack.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     All he’d wanted to do was scare her, he didn’t want her to have a heart attack.  He snapped his fingers and the spiders vanished.  She leaned forward, taking deep breaths, clutching her sides.  He felt a little bad for her, but ignored it.  All of this could have been avoided if she’d just let him come along with her in the first place.  If anyone was the villain here, it was her.  She was getting what she deserved.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Will, you okay?” </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     The young librarian from the children's section had joined her at the desk, her brow furrowed with concern.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Willow straightened back up, running her fingers through her hair.  The fake smile was back on her face again.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Yeah, Mariah, I’m fine...I just...there was this big spider…”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Ew, gross, where?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Mariah jumped back and scanned the floor, as if expecting to see swarms of bugs crawling all over her feet.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Don’t worry, it’s gone now.  Almost like...” Willow’s eyes narrowed.  She turned around and felt behind her for something.  She must not have found it because she leaned forward then, feeling around on the desk, and before he could do anything, her hand passed right through Beetlejuice’s stomach.  Her eyes flashed dangerously and she clenched her jaw, immediately retracting her hand.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Shit, she knows,” Beetlejuice gulped.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I know you’re there, Beej.  Show yourself,” she hissed, quietly so only he could hear her.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He thought about teleporting back home to escape her wrath, but knew that would just make the situation worse for himself in the long run, so he did as he was told, materializing before her eyes.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “You got me,” he said flatly.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Ugh, I hate spiders.  Do you want me to watch the desk for a bit?  That group of kindergartners just left, and I owe you one for letting me show them around today,” Mariah said, not noticing the change in her coworker’s behavior, or the demon that was currently sitting in front of her.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Willow smiled.  “Sure.  I need to finish some things downstairs, anyway.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She stood up and surreptitiously gestured for him to follow her.  He groaned and he trailed along behind her, feeling like a kid about to be scolded by a teacher.  She led him downstairs and back to the children’s area, where she ushered him inside a little windowless office and shut the door behind them.  It wasn’t much of an office: two computer desks and chairs, a coat rack, and no decorations.  The desk in the far corner was cluttered with post-it notes, framed photos, and knickknacks, and had pens and pencils strewn about on top of it.  The desk closest to the door was almost bare except for a planner, a mug, and a pencil cup.  He hopped up onto the bare desk, determined to remain aloof until the bitter end.  She didn’t seem angry, oddly enough, just irritated, but it was only a matter of time until she started yelling.  Maybe he could talk his way out of this and avoid a punishment.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b></b>
  <b>
    <em>     “Look, before you get all mad, I didn’t know spiders would send you into cardiac arrest.  I just wanted to try and scare you a little,” he said, crossing his arms.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She wasn’t amused in the slightest.  A look of betrayal shot across her face as she hugged herself, shuddering as if she could still feel the spiders crawling all over her.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “How could you do something like that?  What the hell are you even doing here?” she hissed.  “Go back home!  I’m at work, this is exactly why I didn’t want you to come with me!”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “And what do you want me to do at home, twiddle my thumbs?  It’s not fair that you get to come and go as you please while I have to stay behind!”  he snapped, jumping to his feet.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “And the little stunt you pulled is supposed to change my mind?  You dumped spiders on me, why would I want you to come with me to work in the future?  If anything that just proves you can’t be trusted to go anywhere outside of the house!” she argued.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He yanked at his hair, his anger and frustration building.  Why didn’t she understand?  He knew she was lonely too, so why wasn’t she getting it?</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Today it’s work, and yeah, you come home on time, but what about tomorrow?  Pretty soon you’re going to go out on dates, or out with friends, and then you won’t come back at all!  You’ll be like everyone else!” he shouted, stomping his feet.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Willow’s eyes widened and her mouth formed a little ‘o’.  She tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but it passed right through.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Beej, do you really think I’ll stop coming home?” she asked softly. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He snarled at her, making her jump.  Judging from the way her eyes flicked to the top of his head his hair was probably red, but he didn’t care. “That’s what they all say!  You all just use me to get what you want, and then throw me away like I don’t matter!  I matter!”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Beetlejuice, calm down and listen to me,” she said firmly.  “I’m not going to do that to you.  Look, I’ve had people who were supposed to be my friends use me and toss me aside too.  I’m not going to put someone else in that position.  I know that we just met and we’re just getting to know each other, but I’m asking you to trust that I’m not going to leave you behind.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He wanted to snap at her, or argue, or start yelling again, but there was so much earnestness in her face that he couldn’t bring himself to do it.  He knew it was crazy to trust her, but he had too much riding on this relationship that he couldn’t afford not to.  He had a good shot at getting his powers back if he did what she asked, and she seemed genuine.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Okay,” he said at last.  “I’m going to trust you.  Don’t make me regret it.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He’d tried to make it sound like a threat, but it came out as more of a plea.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Thank you.  I have to get back to work now, but if you want to stick around you can,” she said, smiling slightly.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He gaped at her.  “You’re not going to make me leave?  I thought you didn’t want me here?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She shrugged.  “You came all this way, and I think we understand each other a little better, so if you want to stay I don’t mind.  Just no more spiders, okay?  They make me really really uncomfortable.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘‘Really uncomfortable’? You had a whole anxiety attack, but go off I guess,’ he thought, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.  She was letting him stay, so it was probably a good idea for him to just keep his mouth shut and leave her be.  He’d address her fear of spiders later on.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Well, I’ve got nothing better to do, I may as well stick around,” he said, smirking. </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Great.  Come keep me company as I straighten up the magazines.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice trailed around after Willow for the rest of her work day, cracking jokes and telling stories as she returned books and magazines to their respective stacks, helped old people find the things they were looking for, and checked stuff out for patrons.  He was being a little more annoying and talkative than usual (and he was a motor-mouth demon, so that said </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>a</em>
  </b>
  
  <b>
    <em>lot</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>) but he was trying to make up for the shit he’d pulled earlier.  She didn’t seem to mind, though.  If anything she seemed to enjoy it.  She even laughed when he regaled her with his story about sleeping with Katharine Hepburn, which was incredible, since most people found that one to be gross.  He supposed she had to get pretty bored at work if she was letting him drone on and on like that.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     At a quarter to six she punched out and went back to the little windowless office, grabbing her bag from the chair behind the clean, bare desk (of course hers was the neat and tidy one).  After a brief goodbye to Mariah, the librarian from earlier (and the owner of the messy desk), he and Willow finally went out to the parking lot and got into her little car, leaving the dusty old building behind them.  Fifteen minutes later they were pulling into their driveway, and Beetlejuice almost phased through her in his hurry to get into the house.   </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Man, I never thought I’d be happy to see this place,”  he sighed, slumping down at the kitchen table.  “No offense, but your job is the worst.  I’m not going to work with you anymore, those few hours were enough.  I’d rather stay here and watch Netflix and not risk dying from boredom.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She rolled her eyes and set her bag down on the counter.  “You’re already dead, how would you die from boredom?  Anyway, what exactly were you expecting when I told you I’m a librarian?  Did you not know what a library was?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He shrugged.  “I knew it was going to be boring, but I didn’t think it was going to be </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>that</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> boring.  I dunno how you do it.  Doesn’t it drive you crazy?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “No, Beej, it doesn’t.  Believe it or not but I like my job,” she replied, bringing out a small pot and a little saucepan from one of the cupboards.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He watched as she filled the pot up with water at the sink and brought it over to the stove, setting it there to boil.  Then she went to the pantry and grabbed a box of pasta and a jar of sauce.  The sauce was dumped into the saucepan and set to a simmer on the stove, and the pasta was set aside on the counter, ready to be dumped as soon as the water was boiling.   </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Girl, you need to get out more.  Working at a place like that will dry you up inside.  Soon you’re going to be deader than I am,” he insisted.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Weren’t you just telling me earlier that you don’t want me to go out?  Make up your mind, man,” she teased. “You can’t have it both ways, Beej.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He pouted.  “Okay fine, fair enough.  How about you say my name and then we hit a few bars?  That way you actually have some kind of a social life and I don’t get left behind?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Sounds tempting, but no.  I can drink for free at my house, and I don’t have to worry about getting watered down alcohol or someone slipping something into my drink while my back is turned.  And I’m not even close to considering saying your name, so you’re just going to have to deal with me being boring for a while.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     It was worth a shot.  Oh well, he didn’t think he had a chance of her saying his name this early anyway.  Not after this afternoon.  But that was fine, he’d wear her down eventually.  There was no way she wouldn’t fall for his charms.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Fair enough.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Willow finished making her dinner and they went out into the living room, where she opened up her laptop and brought up Hulu.  After what Beetlejuice put her through that afternoon he let her pick whatever she wanted to watch, and she settled on some kind of comedy show about a bunch of New York detectives.  It was actually pretty enjoyable, despite its lack of horror, and he even found himself laughing at some of the jokes.  She seemed to like it too; she laughed even more than he did, and he couldn’t help but feel some strange, fuzzy feelings at the sound.  He didn’t know what that was about, but they were easy to swallow down, so he just ignored them.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     They binge watched the show until ten-thirty, when Willow started to yawn.  She went out to the kitchen and cleaned up the mess she’d made during her dinner preparations then went back out to the living room, stifling another yawn.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I’m going to head up to bed.  Do you want me to leave the laptop on for you or are you going to go to bed too?”  she asked, rubbing her eyes.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He stood up and stretched.  “Nah, I’ll go to bed too.  Being around all of those books made me tired.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She rolled her eyes, shutting her laptop.  “Ha ha, you’re so funny.  Let’s go, then.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     They went upstairs, and before she went into her room she gave him one final, tired smile.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Good night, Beej.  See you in the morning.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He smiled back.  “Sweet dreams, babes.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He retreated into his room and flopped down on the bed.  The fuzzy feelings were back, even stronger this time, and he was still at a loss as to what they meant.  But he wasn’t going to dwell on them.  For now, he just wanted to nap.  He snapped his fingers, changing from his suit into the sweatpants and t-shirt he had worn last night.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Who cares about some stupid feelings?’ he thought, curling up. ‘Focus on getting her to say your name.  That’s what’s really important.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4: Bonding Over Bad Moms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow's sister comes over for a visit and to deliver a surprise, which leads to a conversation with a certain ghost about horrible mothers.  Who knew that sharing stories of family trauma could truly cement a friendship?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, so I might have gotten a bit too much inspiration from my personal life for the next two chapters, so bear with me.  Also shoutout to all the people out there who grew up having a toxic parent/parents, that shit is not easy to go through.  <br/>Hope you enjoy it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 4:  Bonding Over Bad Moms</p>
<p>     Willow and Beetlejuice settled into an easy rhythm over the next two weeks, getting to know each other’s routines and quirks.  Every morning when she got up for work Beetlejuice lay in wait in different areas of the house-outside her bedroom, in the laundry room, in the living room, in random closets, or in the kitchen-prepared to scare her, and every morning he failed to elicit a whimper, let alone a scream.  She would then have her morning cup of tea and a quick breakfast while getting her things together (he would usually follow close behind her, making jokes and asking why she didn’t just keep everything in the same place), and set up her laptop for him to watch something while she was away at work.  Then she would come home, he’d try scaring her while she made dinner, they’d watch a movie or a few episodes of something, she’d go to bed, and the whole cycle would repeat itself the next morning.</p>
<p>     Despite his very clear moral deficiencies (he was always offering to murder people she complained about in exchange for her saying his name), perverse behavior, and lack of boundaries, Beetlejuice was proving to be an enjoyable housemate.  Other than his daily attempts to scare her, he didn’t cause an unbearable amount of chaos.  She supposed it would be different if he was tangible and could touch things and interact better with his environment, but since he was essentially little more than a shade (he could still sit down on things, conjure bugs, and blow air in her face, but when she asked him about that he only shrugged and said “I dunno, I’m not a scientist” so she let it go) she didn’t have to worry too much about him.  Plus he was sort of...fun.  They had the same sense of humor (dark and morbid, with just a dash of inappropriate), and liked the same types of music, shows, and movies.  His demonic nature aside, it was nice to have him around.  He was almost like a friend.  </p>
<p>     Or at least he could be if she learned how to open up to him.  As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t bring herself to truly connect with him.  She didn’t know how long he was going to be staying (sure, he wanted to stick around until she summoned him, but she wasn’t going to assume he’d really do that, especially if it took a while) and she didn’t want to overshare with a demon who had a serious problem with judgement and boundaries.  Of course, this made her come across as more of a robot hostess than a human being, but it was the best she could do.  If only she could tell people about him so she could take some of the pressure off.</p>
<p>     Willow spoke with her sister Cora and her friend Luna every day, and she worked most shifts with Maria, but she didn’t dare tell them that a demon was residing in her house.  Cora would claim she was crazy, Luna wouldn’t believe her, and she was still in the early stages of her friendship with Maria (she hadn’t even come out to her as bi yet, how was she supposed to bring up Beetlejuice?).  It almost made her feel a little guilty, as if he was some kind of dirty secret (though, in a way, he was), but until she found a way to bring him up into a conversation, and figure out how to water down how they’d met and what his true nature was, he’d have to stay a secret.</p>
<p>     Of course, that made it all the more difficult when Cora called Willow early that Sunday morning and informed her that she was on her way to her house, and would be there in a little less than an hour.</p>
<p>     “I have a present for you, and I had to give it to you in person!  Plus I really wanted to see your house with my own eyes.  It looks so creepy in pictures and when we FaceTime.”</p>
<p>     Willow tried to get her to turn around, or let her meet her halfway, but she wouldn’t have it.</p>
<p>     “Will, I’m coming over and that’s it.  I’ve already come this far, I’m not going to turn around now, that would just be a waste of time and gas.  See you soon.”</p>
<p>     Five minutes later Willow was running around the living room, doing her best to straighten everything up and make the place look as normal as possible, while Beetlejuice watched from the couch, painting his nails.</p>
<p>     “Remind me again, why are you going all crazy?” he asked.</p>
<p>     She glared at him, her hands on her hips.  “Because I don’t want my sister finding out I’m living with a demon.”</p>
<p>     He scoffed.  “Babes, I’m cursed remember?  She’s not going to know I’m here.”</p>
<p>     “But we don’t know that!  <em>I </em>can see you, and she’s my sister, isn’t it plausible that she’d be able to see you too?”</p>
<p>     “Nah, it’s not.  You’re different from other breathers, Will.  Odds are your sis is going to be as blind as everyone else.  You’ll see.”</p>
<p>     All too soon there was the sound of Cora’s car pulling into the driveway, and the obnoxious honking of its horn.  Willow went outside to meet her, the anxiety eating her alive.  She couldn’t help but feel like this was a horrible idea.  </p>
<p>     “Will, this place is creepy as hell!” Cora exclaimed, hopping out of her car and hugging her sister.</p>
<p>     “Hello, Cora,” Willow replied flatly, hugging her back.</p>
<p>     “Quit moping, I know you’re happy to see me!  You’ll be even happier when you see what I brought you!”</p>
<p>     Cora popped the trunk to reveal the surprise: the flat screen tv that Willow recognized as the one that was usually in her living room.</p>
<p>     “No,” she said, shaking her head.  “Take it back home, I’m not taking your tv.”</p>
<p>     Cora pouted.  “What, why not?  Yours is broken, and we just got a new one, so we didn’t need this one.  And it’s perfectly fine, so it would be stupid to just throw it away.”</p>
<p>     “I don’t need it,” Willow insisted.  “I’m going to replace mine eventually.”</p>
<p>     Her sister wouldn’t hear of it.  “Help me carry the thing inside, will you?  Then you’re going to give me a tour of the place.  I want to see how many ghosts are trapped here.”</p>
<p>     ‘Just the one, but he’s actually a demon,’ Willow wanted to say, but she kept her mouth shut, grabbed hold of one side of the television, and helped Cora carry it into the kitchen, where they set it down on the table.</p>
<p>     Beetlejuice came to investigate what all the noise was, and when he saw the tv his eyes popped out of his head (literally, they fell to the floor and rolled around there for a second before he had the decency to pop them back into their sockets).</p>
<p>     He clapped his hands, grinning like a little kid.  “She gave us a tv!  That’s so awesome!  Sorry, babes, but your sis is my new favorite!”</p>
<p>     Willow glared at him but didn’t respond.  Cora walked around the kitchen and inspected everything closely, taking it all in.  The demon had been right, she couldn’t see him.  She actually walked by him more than once and he’d made faces at her and wiggled his tongue like a worm, and she hadn’t noticed any of it.  </p>
<p>     “The kitchen seems normal, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the house is.  Come on, Will, I want that tour!” she said at last, grabbing her sister by the arm and dragging her into the living room.</p>
<p>     Cora dragged Willow from room to room, remarking on what had been done to make the place less gloomy, and what she would’ve done to make the house seem more like a home, all the while oblivious to Beetlejuice, who followed them as they made their way through the house, and made snide comments here and there about this intruder (“Babes, I totally understand why you haven’t broken down and said my name yet.  Your sis is even more annoying than <em>I </em>am!”).  Cora didn’t even see the absolute disaster area that was Beetlejuice’s room: her eyes merely looked through the piles of dirty clothes and junk that hid the floor from view, and her ears were deaf to the strange, muffled banging sounds that were coming from the closet.  In fact, she deemed it the most appealing room in the house, then led the way back down into the kitchen.</p>
<p>     “Well, that was fun,” Cora said brightly.  “Now let’s put this tv in the living room where it belongs.”</p>
<p>     “That’s the best idea she’s had since she got here,” Beetlejuice said.  </p>
<p>     Willow rolled her eyes.  “Fine.  We’ll put it where my old one was supposed to go.”</p>
<p>     The two sisters carried the television into the living room while the demon followed behind, gushing about how excited he was to get back to watching some good programming, instead of just the stuff that was available to stream on Netflix and Hulu (“It just isn’t enough, Will, a guy needs live tv once in a while.”).  </p>
<p>     Fifteen minutes later everything was plugged in and hooked up correctly, and Willow was already regretting having caved so quickly.  </p>
<p>     “There, that’s better,”  Cora sighed happily, flopping onto the couch.  “Now it looks like this place is inhabited by a person and not just a ghost.  This house is so creepy, how can you stand it?”</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Girl, you don’t even know the half of it,” Beetlejuice said drily, turning his attention away from the television and back to Willow’s sister.  <br/>He was a little disappointed that she couldn’t see him too.  Not that he really expected it, it’s not like seeing ghosts was hereditary, but when Willow first told him she had a sister, he was expecting someone dark and twisted like her, not this loud, annoying, pink-wearing person who liked bossing people around.  If it wasn’t for the fact they had pretty much the same face and the same voice, he never would have guessed they were from the same family.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Just goes to show how special Willow is,’ he thought, looking over at her. </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     The stupid, fuzzy feelings were back again, but he swallowed them down.  Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about them.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>     “What are you talking about?  It’s a normal house,” Willow argued, sitting down next to her.</p>
<p>     Her sister laughed.  “Come on, it’s totally haunted!  I don’t even believe in ghosts and I think this place is haunted!”</p>
<p>     Willow bit her lip, forcing herself to keep a straight face as Beetlejuice drifted lazily in the air above Cora’s head, yawning loudly and obnoxiously.</p>
<p>     “Wouldn’t it be funny if she looked up and suddenly saw me?”  he giggled, picking at his fingernails.  “That would make my day.”</p>
<p>     She ignored him, focusing on her sister.  “It’s just old, that’s all.  It’s got history.”</p>
<p>     “Didn’t you tell me that the old people who used to live here died in the house?”</p>
<p>     “Yeah, but they weren’t murdered or anything.  They died in their sleep, what’s the big deal?”</p>
<p>     “They still died in the house!  I wouldn’t want to live here knowing that.”</p>
<p>     “People die in lots of places.  Someone dying somewhere doesn’t automatically make it haunted.”</p>
<p>     “Yeah, there’s a whole system that goes into a haunting,” Beetlejuice agreed. “Most of the time, they try to get you to shuffle on into the Netherworld.  If you do stick around, you have to follow the Handbook.”</p>
<p>     Willow filed that piece of information away for later.  Not that she had long to dwell on it, because Cora was still commenting in that rapid-fire way of hers.</p>
<p>     “Are you an expert on ghosts now?  Whatever, moving on.  Has Lynn seen this place yet?  She’d hate it.  Not that it means much, the bitch hates everything,” she said darkly.</p>
<p>     Willow scowled.  “No, in order for her to see it, she’d have to talk to me first. She hasn’t talked to me since I introduced her to Opal.  She didn’t even talk to me at Dad’s funeral.”</p>
<p>     “Does she even know you and Opal broke up?  That’s why she disowned you, isn’t it?  You’d think she’d be happy you aren’t, what’d she call it, ”insulting Jesus” anymore.”</p>
<p>     “Who’s this Lynn bitch?  You got another sister somewhere?  I got a plan: invite her over, say my name, and I’ll kill her for ya!”  Beetlejuice said gleefully, rubbing his dirty hands together.  “I’m always down to kill a homophobe.”</p>
<p>     Willow glared at the specter.  “No.  Drop it.”</p>
<p>     He rolled his eyes.  “It’s just an idea, you don’t have to bite my head off, geez.”</p>
<p>     She turned her attention back to her sister, who was watching her with concerned eyes.</p>
<p>     “Will, you okay?  You seem distracted.”</p>
<p>     “I’m fine, just thought I saw a bug.  Are you hungry or anything?  I’ve got some leftover mac and cheese I can throw in the oven.  I made it yesterday.”</p>
<p>     Cora stood up and stretched.  “No, that’s okay.  I should be heading back home, I really only came by to deliver the tv and get a look at your new place.  I’ll call you tomorrow when I get out of my meeting and we’ll make plans for dinner or something next weekend.  We can find something halfway between our houses.”</p>
<p>     Willow smiled.  “That’s fine with me.  I’ll walk you out.”</p>
<p>     Beetlejuice pouted.  “But I haven’t had the chance to try and mess with her yet.”</p>
<p>     All the more reason to get her out of the house.  Willow helped her sister gather her things and showed her out, then came back into the living room.  She sat back down on the couch and turned the television on, setting it to one of the news channels.</p>
<p>     “So, you’re a lesbian?  That’s cool, I’m pan,” Beetlejuice said in an attempt at being casual, floating down onto the couch next to her.</p>
<p>     She rolled her eyes.  “No, I’m bi.  Haven’t we had this conversation?”</p>
<p>     They hadn’t and she knew that, but she hoped he would just drop it.  He was always trying to get her to divulge her sexual history, and apart from not wanting to share that part of her life with him, she generally didn’t want to talk about it.  She’d had people give her shit about her sexuality in the past, she’d even lost friends because of it, and she had no desire to go through that again.  But if he was pansexual, that made it easier.  At least he would sort of understand.</p>
<p>     “No, every time I ask you about it you change the subject.  You’re bi?  Great, that means I still have a chance!”  he grinned, winking in a way he probably thought was attractive but only made it look like he had something in his eye.</p>
<p>     She stifled a laugh.  “Yeah, okay.  Whatever you need to tell yourself.”</p>
<p>     He feigned offense, clutching his chest.  “Excuse me, I’ll have you know I’m a <em>catch</em>.  I’m an absolute <em>stud</em>.  Haven’t I ever told you about the time I slept with Katharine Hepburn?  She couldn’t keep her hands off me!”</p>
<p>     Willow stifled a giggle.  He’d told her that story so many times she had it memorized (not that she’d asked him to, it was his favourite tale to tell).  It was a little gross to hear at first, and she wondered why he was even telling it to her, but for the most part it was pretty funny.  However, whether there was any truth to it remained to be seen.  He was a demon, yes, but he was also a guy, of course he would want to make up something like that for either the shock value or to seem impressive.  </p>
<p>     “Considering I only have <em>your</em> word that happened, I’m not inclined to believe you,”  she smirked.</p>
<p>     Beetlejuice stuck his tongue out at her, morphing it to make it look like a snake.  “See, this is why I like Cora more, she’s nicer than you.  If she ever comes over again, I’m definitely going to mess with her.”</p>
<p>     “How do you plan on doing that?  You’re invisible and intangible, and I’m not going to say your name just so you can scare my sister.  I don’t need you to, I can and will do it myself.  I’ve been doing it for years.”</p>
<p>     The demon sat back, impressed.  “And here I thought you were a goody-two-shoes.  I’m liking you more and more, babes.”</p>
<p>     “I’d like you better if you didn’t suggest murdering people all the time.”</p>
<p>     “Hey, I’m a demon, I’m not supposed to be a good guy.  Besides, if it’s someone you hate, like that Lynn bitch, what’s the difference?”</p>
<p>     “Because it’s not my place to decide who lives and who dies, no matter who the person is, Beej.  Even if that person is someone I hate.”</p>
<p><b><em>     Interesting.  Okay, so it was a ‘no’ when it came to murder talk.  Cool, whatever, not a big deal, his experience with other breathers taught him that most of them weren’t cool with murder.  But once she said his name it wouldn’t matter, he could do what he wanted.  Except...he really did like her, and he liked staying in the house with her.  He didn’t want to lose her by doing something she would hate him for.  Besides, there was a lot of stuff he could do to someone that didn’t involve offing them.</em></b>  </p>
<p>     “Who is Lynn anyway?  Why do we hate her so much?  Other than the clear homophobia thing?”  he asked.</p>
<p>     “She’s the woman who gave birth to me,” she replied.  “That’s all you need to know.”</p>
<p>     Beetlejuice raised an eyebrow.  “What, I gotta be at level fifteen to unlock your tragic backstory?  Spill the tea, sis.”</p>
<p>     “Fine.  She’s a cold hearted bitch who never learned to love anyone other than herself.  I spent my whole life taking care of her and making sure she was happy, because that’s what my dad said we had to do even though she has <em>totally manageable diabetes</em>, and all she did was treat me like shit until she wanted something from me.  If I never see her again it’ll be too soon.”</p>
<p>     He whistled.  “Wow, you’ve got some <em>serious</em> mommy issues.  That’s cool, I hate my mom too.”</p>
<p>     She stared at him.  “Demons have mothers?”</p>
<p>     He shrugged.  “Some do, some don’t.  I’m one of the unlucky ones that does.  Juno was a real piece of work.  If she wasn’t being a raging alcoholic, she was always like “Why don’t you bathe?” and “Why is your hair purple?” and “I should’ve left like your father!”.  She’s the one who cursed me.  I was working for her down in the Netherworld, but I wasn’t doing a good enough job I guess, so she made sure she’d never have to deal with me again.  The last thing she ever said to me was how happy she was to finally be getting rid of me.  She wasn’t the maternal type, you know?”</p>
<p>     Willow nodded.  “Yeah, I know how that feels.  Lynn wasn’t maternal either.  It’s funny, she was always talking about how she wanted to have a bunch of kids, but she didn’t care about the ones she had.  She was always nagging me as a kid:  “Why are you wasting your time in chorus?  You can’t sing”, “Why do you have to wear jeans and t-shirts all the time, you look like a slob”, and “Why can’t you wear makeup or do your hair?  You’d actually look like a girl if you did that”. And what makes me even angrier is for all the nagging she did, she wasn’t around when I was a kid.  Well, physically she was, she couldn’t hold down a job because she didn’t want to work, even though we couldn’t afford her not to, but she was emotionally cold and distant.  She only took time out of her day to berate me.  My own sister had to mother me because she refused to do it.  Cora was the one who made sure I got up for school, and had a lunch, and got all my homework done.  Lynn couldn’t care less.</p>
<p>     “She actually had a mental breakdown when I was in college.  She started talking to all kinds of those internet scammers, the ones who claim to be veterans and single dads and stuff, so they can get people to send them money and gift cards, and she latched onto one in particular and fell in love with him.  She stole money from my dad, quit her job, and packed up her shit so she could run off and be with the scammer.  I told my dad about it after she told me in advance that she was leaving him, and he confronted her.  She got her friends involved, telling them that there wasn’t a scammer and my dad was abusive to her, and she went to go stay with one of them.  Two weeks later she ended up in the hospital because her friend found her on the floor unconscious from her blood sugar being out of whack, and then she was moved to the psych ward because the friend realized she’d been lying the whole time when she found Lynn’s phone and saw the conversations she was having with the scammer, and a week later Lynn was back, and Dad said we weren’t allowed to talk about what happened or even be angry with her for what she did because it “wasn’t her fault”.</p>
<p>     “After her breakdown that we weren’t allowed to talk about, Lynn started noticing what I was doing with my life.  By then it was “You’re going to school for English?  You’re never going to get a job!” and “What is wrong with you?  You’re dating a girl?  Don’t you care that you’ll go to Hell for this?”.  That one was rich.  She could cheat on her husband and be completely fine in the eyes of her God, but I’m doomed to Hell because of something I can’t even control.  <em>She </em>had the nerve to be disgusted with <em>me </em>and how I live <em>my life</em>.  I can’t change who I am just because she doesn’t like it.  Maybe if she’d actually cared enough to, you know, <em>take care of her children like she was supposed to</em>, I wouldn’t be the way I am.  I mean, I’d still be bi, but maybe I wouldn’t have crippling depression and anxiety.  But don’t even get me started on that, because I’ll just lose my fucking mind.”</p>
<p>     She inhaled sharply through her nose, trying to keep her temper in check.  She always got like this when she talked about Lynn, she couldn’t help it.  There was just so much rage and bitterness that had been growing inside of her since she was a child, she couldn’t control it whenever she talked about the source.  </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Wow, don’t get her angry.  Ever,’ Beetlejuice thought, inching away from Willow on the couch as she had her little tirade.  ‘She’s got a dark side, and you don’t want to be on the receiving end.’  But as startling as it was to see, he also really enjoyed it.  He’d seen her upset after the stunt with the spiders, but this was something different.  That was just frustration and a bit of betrayal.  This was pure, unfiltered rage.  Up until now, she hadn’t shown any indication that she was even capable of feeling anger, almost as if she was acting on her best behaviour for him.  But now that act was gone, and he was finally seeing a side of her he’d been waiting for.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I’m sorry, you definitely didn’t want to hear any of that,”  she said quickly, blushing.  “I just get so mad, and I know I shouldn’t because I know I didn’t have it as bad as some people, and it’s not healthy or whatever, and I should forgive her to “help me move on”, but I can’t help it.  Just forget I said anything, okay?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She was trying to take it all back, but he wasn’t going to let her.  He didn’t want any more fake Willow, he wanted the real one.  If he was going to befriend her-and he really, really wanted to be her friend, and not just because it meant she was going to say his name-he needed to befriend the person she was on the inside, the one she didn’t want him to see.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Fuck that.  Who cares?  Your mom treated you like shit, you can be mad about it.  You don’t have to forgive her, either.  Why should you?  She doesn’t deserve it.  You think I ever forgave my mom for how she treated me?  No, I didn’t.  I fed that bitch to a sandworm, and I loved every second of it.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “What’s a sandworm?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Doesn’t matter, point is, it’s okay to be mad.  Get mad more often, you’re always happy, you’re like a Stepford Wife, it freaks me out.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Willow cracked a smile.  “I’m really not, I just keep things to myself until I can’t hold them in anymore.  I don’t like bothering people with my problems.  Especially my friends.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Friends.  She just said ‘friends’.  We’re friends!’  Beetlejuice thought excitedly.  It was official!  But why would she think she’d bother him if she showed any other emotion than happiness?  That’s what friends did, wasn’t it?  Tell each other about stuff that upset them?  Did she not trust him?  Did she think he would just laugh at her?  What was the problem here?</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Do you think I don’t care?”  he asked quietly, his voice quavering.  His hair was probably turning purple, but that didn’t matter at the moment.  “That’s what you think, isn’t it?  You think I don’t care because I’m a demon!”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She shook her head, and when she tried to take his hand hers just passed right through it.  Would they ever remember that they couldn’t touch each other?</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “No, Beej, no.  I don’t want you to have to worry about me, that’s all.  You have your own stuff to deal with, why should I saddle you with mine?”  she asked.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He rolled his eyes.  He should’ve known it was because of something like that.  She was one of those noble, self-sacrificing types, so of course she would think she had to deal with her problems by herself.  After doing it her whole life, she most likely didn’t know anything else.  Everyone has their coping mechanisms, and this one was hers, as strange as it was.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Babes, that’s what friends are for.  Besides, I’m dead, what kinds of problems could I have?  All I’ve got to deal with is my curse.  I’d be more than happy to help you with your shit,”  he reassured her.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She smiled.  “Okay, I promise I’ll open up more.  Is that better?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Loads.  Now, enough of this sappy crap, let’s watch this tv your amazing sister gave us.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p><b></b>     Willow and Beetlejuice enjoyed a quiet evening, taking turns choosing channels to watch.  Now that it had been established out loud that they were actually friends, a sort of mutual understanding had settled between the two of them.  Willow didn’t feel like she needed to hide parts of herself from him anymore, and she hoped that he wouldn’t try so hard to get her to say his name now.  If they kept this up, she’d no doubt build up enough trust in him to say it.  It was hard not to want to trust him, especially when he always seemed to say what he was thinking and he literally showed his emotions in the colour of his hair.  </p>
<p>     She stole a glance at him as he laughed hysterically at a lame d-list horror movie he found on the sci-fi channel; one of the ones with a horribly CGI hybrid monster that gets created by the government for some unknown reason, yet escapes and causes havoc, only to be killed by some random rogue military guy with a bomb.  The sound of his laugh made her feel warm and tingly inside, something she hadn’t felt since she was with Opal.</p>
<p>     ‘Nope, not good, stop it right now,’ she scolded herself, blushing.</p>
<p>     She couldn’t afford to have a crush on Beetlejuice.  It would just make everything that much harder once she said his name.</p>
<p>     “I’m tired, I’m going to go to bed,” she blurted loudly, standing up so fast that she stumbled.</p>
<p>     Beetlejuice frowned and looked at the clock.  “Already?  It’s only nine-thirty.”</p>
<p>     She blushed.  “Yeah, I’m really tired.  Cora sapped a lot of my energy, she always does.  I think she’s an energy vampire.”</p>
<p>     He shrugged.  “Okay.  Is it cool if I watch tv by myself then?”</p>
<p>     “Sure, go ahead.  Watch for as long as you want.”</p>
<p>     She escaped upstairs to her bedroom, her face still burning.  She quickly changed into pajamas and crawled into bed, glaring up at the ceiling.  This was ridiculous.  Developing a crush on a demon?  Was she crazy?  She was just going to have to ignore it, or try to redirect her feelings onto something else.  </p>
<p>     ‘But why?  You’ve become friends with him.  Who knows, maybe once you say his name, your relationship can grow into something else.  Life’s funny that way,’ a hopeful voice said in the back of her head.</p>
<p>     Willow scowled.  ‘Because he’s a demon.  He’ll never feel the same way.  Just bury it deep down along with everything else.  It’ll go away eventually.’</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I might be adding the next two chapters this weekend instead of waiting.  Figured I may as well since they're already written and ready to go.  Sound off in the comments or something if that's something you'd like or if you'd prefer the suspense.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5: Reconnecting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow makes plans to visit her friends in her hometown, and Beetlejuice decides he's going to tag along in secret so he can learn more about her.  He ends up getting a little more than he bargained for when she not only reconnects with her old friends, but some family members as well.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was going to add this chapter over the weekend, but I ended up being busier than I thought and completely forgot about it.  Oh well, better late than never.  I got a little personal for this chapter too, but I promise it's the last time!  Hope you enjoy it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Chapter 5:  Reconnecting</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     August was starting to wind down, marking that Beetlejuice had been staying with Willow for three weeks now.  So much had happened in those three weeks that it felt like a lot longer than that: he’d seen her at her job and met her friend/coworker Mariah, he’d encountered her sister, and he’d learned about the turbulent relationship she had with her mother.  He’d even managed to get her to come out to him (which he was extremely proud of, since she had refused to give him any details until Cora said something).  Yet none of that could have prepared him for the latest test:  being introduced to her best friends Luna and Mike.  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Of course, he didn’t personally meet Luna and Mike.  When Willow had told him that Saturday morning that she was going to take a drive to her hometown to visit her best friends, he simply tagged along without her knowing, stowing away (invisibly) in the back of her car, eager to see the people she thought were so amazing.  If they were anything like her, they had to be as exciting as a bowl of plain oatmeal.  Still, he wanted to see them.  Maybe if he got a glimpse of her friends, and eavesdropped on their conversations, he’d get a better feel for who Willow was as a person.  At the very least he would know what kinds of people she allied herself with.  If he got to know and understand her friends, he could adopt some of their traits, and get her to say his name faster.  That, or he just wanted to scope out the competition.  All of those excuses worked for him.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     The drive itself was mostly uneventful, but for some reason Willow seemed really tense and stressed out.  She’d been like that all morning, her jaw set tight and her eyes cold and sharp like shards of green-blue glass, but as they sped closer to her hometown her tension seemed to grow worse.  She was gripping the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles were white, and occasionally she would run her fingers through her hair, tugging on it.  Beetlejuice had no clue what was wrong.  Was it because she didn’t want to see her friends?  Did she hate her hometown?  He almost wanted to materialize and ask her what was up, but he figured that would just cause her to crash the car.  He had no choice but to sit and wait it out.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     They pulled into the parking lot of a little stand-type restaurant with a bunch of wooden picnic tables clustered around it.  Willow hesitated for a moment, touching up her makeup a bit in a compact mirror (she was wearing </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>makeup</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> today, who were these people that they were good enough for her to wear </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>makeup</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> for, she never wore makeup for </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>him</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>) before hopping out, taking a deep breath as she did so.  She went to sit at a table for a few minutes before she smiled for the first time that day, trotting over to two people who had just walked up: a tall guy with brown hair wearing jeans and a plain black shirt, and a tall blonde girl wearing a purple summery dress and heels.  Willow hugged both of them tightly, bouncing with excitement.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Psh, these are your friends, babes?  Why are </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>they</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> so great?”  Beetlejuice grumbled, walking around the two newcomers to get a better look. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Tall Guy (named ‘Mike’ apparently) was cute in that nerdy type of way (‘Oh yeah, he’s a total nerd, you can tell by the way he’s standing!’), and he had a sarcastic smile that said he was full of snarky attitude.  He could definitely have fun with this guy if given the chance.  Blonde Girl (AKA Luna) was cute too, all pretty and girly and dressy, and she had a sharp glint in her blue eyes that was slightly unnerving, like she wanted to create mischief (‘The trouble we could cause together if you could see me, blondie!’).  Apparently there was more to Willow than just books and musicals and being boring (and sexy).  How else would she make friends like these?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I’m so happy to see you guys, you have no idea!” Willow beamed.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Mike chuckled.  “Really?  I couldn’t tell by the way you almost tackled me when you hugged me.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     She giggled.  “Shut up, it’s been a weird couple of weeks for me, okay?  I needed this.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Luna stroked Willow’s hair, which was a little weird, but it must’ve been some kind of inside joke because Willow didn’t seem to mind at all.  “We can’t wait to hear all about it.  Now let’s get some food.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     The menu wasn’t extensive, mostly standard fare like burgers and hot dogs, but it boasted having over one hundred types of milkshakes, and the place was pretty packed, so it had to be good.  Or the town was so lame that a hot dog stand was the only joint worth going to.  </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>They got their food and took a seat at one of the shaded tables, none of them aware that Beetlejuice was floating above their heads.  He would’ve loved to appear, just to see if these two could see him like Willow could, but that wasn’t a good idea.  He still didn’t want her to know that he was here.  She’d go ballistic.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Do you guys want to see pictures of the house?  Cora visited me and she absolutely hates it, but I think you guys will appreciate it,” Willow said, munching on some fries.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Yes!  I can’t believe you haven’t shown it to us before!”  Luna exclaimed.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Yeah, what are you hiding from us?”  Mike asked.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Nothing!  It’s just a house, no need to be suspicious!”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     She set her phone on the table and pulled up the pictures, flipping through so Luna and Mike could see every room.  Beetlejuice had photobombed a couple of them, doing goofy poses and making funny faces, but her friends didn’t notice.  They were as blind as everyone else.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “It looks a little spooky, is it haunted?” Luna asked, slurping her shake.  “Not that you believe in ghosts.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Of course it’s not haunted, ghosts aren’t real,” Mike scoffed, taking a bite out of his cheeseburger.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “No, ghosts aren’t real at all, you’re totally right Mikey,” Beetlejuice smirked.  “I see why you get along with this guy, babes.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Willow rolled her eyes.  “No, it’s not haunted.  That's such a stereotype that old houses are automatically haunted.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “When are you going to invite us over for a visit?  We need to have a proper housewarming party,” Luna insisted.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Whenever you guys want.  Though it would probably just be you and I, because Mike doesn’t care about us,” Willow sighed dramatically.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I’m sorry, I’m just really busy now!  Anyway, what’s the town like?  Have you made any friends yet?  How’s work going for you?”  Mike asked, rattling off questions so fast it made their eavesdropping demon impressed.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I love Woodview!  It’s really quaint and picturesque, it doesn’t feel like a real place sometimes.  It’s not that big, and I have to go to the next town over to go to the mall, but all in all I think I’ll be very happy there.  I have made some friends, actually!  My coworker Mariah and I are pretty close.  We share an office, and we have a lot in common.  She’s adorable, she’s really bad with technology, like she uses a flip phone and can barely start her computer, that’s how bad she is.  That’s how we became friends, she was trying to set up a new copier and somehow managed to ruin the settings so it wouldn’t make copies of anything that was on a sheet of paper, and I helped her out.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Mike frowned.  “Is she an old lady?”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “No, she’s the same age we are!  That’s why she’s so adorable!”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Luna smiled mischievously.  “Do we </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>like</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> her?”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice bristled.  What kind of question was that?  And why did it make him so mad?  He never considered that Willow might like someone.  Especially someone as cute as Mariah.  He’d seen her, she was definitely a catch.  But Willow wasn’t interested in her, right?  She would have told him if she liked someone, right?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Willow smirked.  “No, not like that.  Mariah’s just a friend.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Just a friend.  Good.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I also befriended this guy BJ.  He’s a little weird, but he’s my kind of weird, and he’s funny, and he’s really helped me to adjust to living on my own in a new place.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     BJ?  She never talked about anyone named BJ!  Did she have a secret friend she didn’t tell him about?  He was about to materialize and demand to know who this mystery guy was when it finally clicked.  BJ.  Beetlejuice.  She was talking about </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>him</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>.  He blushed so much he figured his whole body would turn pink.  He had no idea that she was willing to admit she was friends with him.  Sure, she didn’t divulge that he was a dead demon and was currently shacking up with her, but he would take what he could get.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Do we like </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>him</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>?”  Luna asked.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     The question startled him so badly that he fell out of the air and landed on the ground next to their table.  He jumped to his feet and dusted himself off hurriedly, not wanting to miss Willow’s answer.  Not that he cared if she liked him or not, of course.  Why would he care if she had feelings for him?  He was just curious if his undeniable charm had any effect on the living.  Yeah, that was it.  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Seriously, what is with you?  Why do you need to know how I feel about different people?  We’re moving on now, okay?”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘She didn’t answer the question,’ Beetlejuice thought, grinning widely.  ‘And is she blushing?  I think she’s blushing!  Aw, babes, do you like me?  That’s so embarrassing!’</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     He didn’t believe that she actually was attracted to him, he knew better than that, but it was fun to pretend.  It was a lot more fun than the reality: that she found him to be completely disgusting, and wouldn’t even give him the time of day if she had the choice.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Work is going great so far!  I love the library, and the head librarians Greg and Dana, my supervisors, have been really patient while I get used to everything.  We have a pretty large number of patrons, despite being a library in a small town.  I guess the local schools don’t have libraries because they lost funding, so the students come to us when they need to use the computer lab or check out books for schoolwork.  That part sucks, I hate that the kids don’t have proper resources at school, but at least they can come to us when they need to.  And if it gets them to learn to utilize their local library, I guess I can’t be too upset about it.  </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>They have me working in the Childrens’ Section most of the time, and I work with the school groups that come in, but at least twice a week they have me working in the Adult Section.  But we’re not here just to talk about me.  What have you two been doing since I left?"</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Mike shrugged.  “Same old, same old.  Studying up for my MCATs, that sort of thing.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “What about that Spanish guy in your program?  The one who always sends you those flirty texts?  How’s he doing?”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “He’s fine, I think.  How should I know?  It’s not like he’s my friend or anything.  I mostly ignore his texts if they don’t have anything to do with coursework or studying.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Luna and Willow exchanged an exasperated look.  Apparently that wasn’t the answer they wanted to hear.  What was all that about?  Oh well, Beetlejuice would just have to ask Willow later when they were alone.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “How about you, Luna?  What have you been doing?” Willow asked.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Luna didn’t have much to say either.  “Nothing new on my end, either.  Just work.  Still house-hunting.  I haven’t found the right one yet, but I haven’t given up hope.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     The three of them spent the next hour and a half just talking about their lives and catching up, boring the hell out of their uninvited guest.  He wasn’t even listening to what they were saying anymore.  Why did they have to be the type of friends who </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>talk</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>?  What was this, </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>Desperate Housewives</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>?  At least on that show they drank and played poker while they chatted, and most of the time they chatted about death and murder over glasses of wine.  These three talked about their lame lives over milkshakes and fries like they were from the 1950s.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Finally they stood up and headed back out to the parking lot, swearing that they needed to get together more often, and Willow insisting that the other two had to visit her new home and see it in person.  Then they all hugged each other and parted ways, getting into their respective cars and driving off.  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice expected her to immediately start heading for home, but instead of getting back onto the thruway to go home, the tense and stressed look was back on her face and she was pulling into the parking lot of a supermarket and running inside.  Before he even had the chance to consider popping in to see what she was getting, she was running back out with two bouquets of flowers and they were on their way once more.  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “What do you need flowers for?” he asked, forgetting she couldn’t see or hear him in his current state of invisibility.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Oh no, was she going to visit her ex?  Was that why she was so stressed?  Was she nervous because she wasn’t sure if her ex would take her back?  But then why would she need two bouquets?  Unless she really, </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>really</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> wanted to get back together with her and the second one was to prove how badly she was willing to make amends.  Again he felt the desire to make himself visible and demand to know what was going on, but he stayed invisible and patient.  It would be easier if he simply sat back and watched what was going on; he’d have less questions to answer and he wouldn’t have to worry about her getting upset with him for not minding his own business.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Staying invisible and patient didn’t clear anything up for him, either.  From the supermarket they wove their way through town and past the rusty iron gates of a small cemetery bordered by yew trees.  Like most cemeteries this one was quiet and winding, and they didn’t come across any other cars or visitors paying their respects.  After driving for a minute Willow pulled up beside a small lot marked ‘Saint Mark’ by a little sign in the ground and got out, a bouquet in each hand.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “What are we doing here. babes?” Beetlejuice asked, loping along beside her as they walked past headstone after headstone.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Then he remembered something she’d mentioned briefly that second morning of his stay; her dad had died before she moved to Woodview.  She never really talked about it, or him for that matter, but he was learning more and more that she didn’t really like talking about personal things.  And if it was only a few months ago, obviously it would be raw.  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     She stopped at a little plot marked by a hawthorne tree, beside which were two in-ground grave markers for ‘Matilda Anne McKinnon, Beloved Daughter’ and ‘Edward Arthur McKinnon, Beloved Husband and Father’, setting a bouquet down next to each one.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>     Willow took a deep breath, kneeling down before the graves to sweep away the leaves and dirt that had accumulated there after her last visit.  Stopping by the cemetery was always hard to do, but she couldn’t ignore her father and her sister when she came back into town.  Even though up until now she didn’t believe in ghosts, it felt like bad juju to leave them behind.  After all, Cora stopped coming to pay her respects after they buried her dad, and she knew that Lynn couldn’t be bothered to visit her daughter and husband.  So the responsibility was left to Willow, and she’d be damned if she let them go unattended for longer than a few months.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Hey, guys, I’m back,” she said softly, whispering despite the silence of the cemetery around her.  “I brought you some flowers, since I figured Cora and Lynn, sorry, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mom</span>
  </em>
  <span>, wouldn’t have left you any.  A lot of things have changed since I was here last.  I moved to a town in Massachusetts called Woodview.  I got a fancy new job at the library there, and I bought the best old house.  Dad, you’d love it.  It’s old and weird and a little creepy, I know you would’ve loved to see it in person.  And I made a few friends, too.  Mariah, my co-worker, we’ve been friends basically since I started, and a guy named Beetlejuice.  And Dad, I don’t know if you can hear me, but Beej is a demon-ghost-guy and you’re probably laughing from the Netherworld because I told you over and over that ghosts aren’t real and you kept telling me that something would happen to prove me wrong, and you were right.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     And you’d probably be worried because he’s a demon, but he’s pretty nice and I like him a lot.  You were always saying I could tell what kind of a person was just by meeting them, and I know he’s good.  Okay, maybe not </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he’s a lot better than some of the humans I’ve met.  What else...Lynn, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mom, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I know you hated that I called her by her first name, she still hasn’t talked to me, and at this point I don’t think she will.  She just doesn’t get me like you did.  And we all know that after Mattie, Cora is her favourite daughter.  I can never seem to measure up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump that was growing in her throat.  “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you about what I’ve been up to and bring you those flowers.  I don’t know when I’ll be back for another visit, probably not until October, but I love you guys and I miss you.  If the afterlife is the way Beej says it is, I hope you guys are together and happy and enjoying yourselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Don’t worry, they are.  Case workers are good about that sort of thing,” a voice said from behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Willow’s heart almost leapt out of her chest.  She turned around to find Beetlejuice right behind her, his hands deep in his pockets and the tips of his hair tinged with blue.  Shock quickly became confusion as she tried to figure out what he was even doing here.  She’d mentioned him briefly, and he was a whole state away, he couldn’t have heard that, could he?  Or did his ghostly, deadishness mean he could sense when she was at a cemetery?  Or maybe he hopped from cemetery to cemetery and coincidentally found her here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Beej?  What-what are you doing here?  How much of that did you hear?” she asked, feeling her face grow warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He settled on the grass beside her, looking sheepish.  “I heard all of it.  I kinda followed you around today.  I wanted to see your friends, so I tagged along.  Are you mad?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>     She should’ve been furious, since he’d stalked her all day and broken her trust, but she wasn’t.  It was nice to have him here when she needed someone for emotional support.  Even though the way he went about it was all wrong, he was still a good friend for being there when she needed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “No, I’m not mad.  But stop doing that, okay?  If you want to come with me, all you have to do is ask.  Most of the time I’ll let you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Okay.  I meant what I said, though.  Your sister and your dad will be together, if that’s what they want.  After Juno got eaten by that sandworm, the Netherworld got a lot better with reuniting families and loved ones.  The way she had it, you would be all alone for eternity because she didn’t want anyone to be happy about being dead.  But now they’ve got someone else in charge and things are a lot nicer.  You don’t have to worry about them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She smiled.  “That’s good.  Dad was always saying that when he died he couldn’t wait to see Mattie again.  She died as a baby, when I was two, and neither of my parents got over it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She looked back down at her father’s grave marker, shooing away an ant that was crawling across it.  “I miss him a lot.  It’s weird, because he wasn’t the best dad, in fact he was kind of toxic because our whole lives revolved around Lynn and no matter what was going on we always had to do what she wanted to do, even on our birthdays, but I loved him so much.  He was the only one who understood me.  I’ve never been cheerful and optimistic like Cora, and Mattie was the perfect child because she died so young, but he knew I was twisted and bitter and dark and he loved me anyway.  Lynn never took the time to love me, and she never will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Beetlejuice nodded sagely, the blue in his hair spreading.  “I never knew my dad.  Juno always said that he ran off, but for all I know she banished him or killed him or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Oh, Beej, I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Why are you sorry?  It is what it is, why get upset about it?  I would love to find him one of these days, though.  Not to have some kind of sappy reunion or anything, but to ask him why he didn’t take me with him and then punch him in the throat.  I think it would be very spiritually healing for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Willow stifled a giggle.  “Yeah, that’s one word for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “It’d be awesome because he wouldn’t even be expecting it!  I’d pretend to go in for a hug or something and then </span>
  <em>
    <span>pow</span>
  </em>
  <span>!  He’d be on the ground in two seconds!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Would it even matter though?  I’m assuming he’s dead, like you, so he wouldn’t need to breathe or anything.  And would he even feel pain?  Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>feel pain?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Stop blowing holes in my revenge plan!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Sorry, I was just curious.  You wouldn’t want your revenge plan to backfire, would you?  Come on, let’s start heading back home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The drive back to Woodview was a lot easier than the drive to Willow’s hometown.  Maybe because she’d gotten her cemetery visit over with and felt lighter after seeing her friends, or maybe because she wasn’t traveling alone.  Either way, the trip went by in the blink of an eye, and soon enough she was pulling into the garage and heading inside, Beetlejuice trailing behind her and babbling about how he wanted her to say his name then invite Mariah, Mike, and Luna over so they could have a weird version of the Hunger Games to see which one of them deserved to be her best friend.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Beej, that’s a little unfair since you’re already dead,” she said reasonably, setting her bag down in the kitchen and putting the kettle on for tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Then I guess I’m your one and only best friend and they’re peasants,” he grinned, flopping down on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Willow laughed.  “No, that’s not how that works.  How about you’re my best demon friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Whatever, babes, as long as I’m the best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She smiled, the tingly, happy feelings surfacing once again.  If this friendship went on any longer she was going to have a crush on her hands.  If she wanted to avoid hurting herself, she needed to say his name and fast.  But if she did, would she ever see him again?  He wouldn’t need to stick around, and he wouldn’t want to, with the rest of the world at his disposal.  And could she really trust him to go out and not harm anyone?  No, as self-indulgent as it was, she needed to keep an eye on him for just a little bit longer, and make absolutely sure he wasn’t going to be a complete danger to society once his powers were back.  For now, her best demon friend was going to have to deal with being invisible and powerless, and she was going to have to keep pretending like the tingly feelings weren’t there.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6: A Wrong Word Said In Anger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's been a month since Willow and Beetlejuice have entered into their strange arrangement, and he's getting tired of waiting for her to say his name.  What's a demon to do when the only human who can see him is holding out on him?  Give her an ultimatum, of course!  What's the worst thing that could happen?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I figured I may as well post this one too since it's finished.  I hope you enjoy it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Chapter 6:  A Wrong Word Said in Anger</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The last day of August dawned unseasonably cold and wet, with iron grey clouds and an unrelenting rain, as if the summer was ready to die and pave the way for an early autumn.  Willow didn’t mind so much; it had been a month since Beetlejuice moved in, and in that month, she hadn’t been able to do any actual writing because he was one giant distraction, so she was happy to get back to it.  But Beetlejuice was devastated, insisting that their “one-month anniversary”, as he called it, was completely ruined.  Apparently he’d wanted to do something special and concocted this giant plan, and the rain botched it.  What he wanted to do she had no idea, since he refused to tell her (“it doesn’t matter, the plan got shot to hell, so screw the whole thing”), but it must have been something nice since he was taking it so hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Rather than try his usual daily scaring routine he just moped about, floating around behind her as she did some cleaning around the house, his hair and scruff a deep purple.  She knew by now that his hair changed color to reflect his mood, and purple meant he was upset.  She’d seen it like this before, mostly while she was getting ready to leave for work, but it had never lasted this long.  Was he really that upset about their ruined “anniversary”?  She had a feeling that there was something else that was bothering him, but when she tried to get him to open up about it, he just sighed and said he was fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Not wanting to leave him alone, she allowed him to follow her into what he claimed was her “office” (really it was just one of the spare bedrooms she converted into a writing space) when she was finished with her cleaning.  Normally she didn’t let him go in there when she was writing, wanting to keep her distraction-level to a minimum, but she was willing to make an exception today if it would help him keep his mind off of his ruined plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice had the worst luck in the world.  After staying with Willow for a month, he’d wanted to do something special for her for letting him stick around so long.  He’d had the whole day planned out:  he and Willow were going to go to the cemetery, and once they got there, he’d lead her over to a nice, shady yew tree that he liked.  Underneath would be a little picnic (some snacks and stuff from the Netherworld, since he couldn’t touch breather food), and they’d have a fun party.  And if, afterwards, she felt compelled to say his name finally, then all the better.  Okay, maybe it was a clever attempt to get her to say his name, but what was so wrong about that?  It had been a whole month already, he was getting tired of sitting around and waiting.  And now that the rain had destroyed any chance of him enacting his plan, he was now going to have to wait even longer, and he wasn’t sure he had it in him.  If she hadn’t said it by now, she never would.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>     As Willow sat at her desk, typing away at her laptop, Beetlejuice lay sprawled on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.  Every once in a while he would sit up and open his mouth as if to say something, but then he’d think better of it and lay back down.  After about an hour of this he finally stood up, his hands in his pockets, watching her as she worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Why haven’t you said my name yet?” he asked softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She kept her eyes glued to the screen, her fingers flying across the keys, trying to keep up with the ideas forming in her head.  “We haven’t gotten to that point yet, Beej.  Just be patient.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “It’s been a month.  What are you waiting for?  I thought we were friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “We </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Then what’s wrong?  You said you’d say it if we became friends, and we are!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She looked up at him at last, and it finally dawned on her why he was so upset today.  It had nothing to do with the rain and his secret “anniversary” plan.  He was starting to lose patience.  Of course, why hadn’t she realized it before?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Nothing.  I’m just waiting until the right time, that’s all,” she replied, attempting to placate him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “When will that be?  I’m getting tired of waiting,” he complained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Just hold out a little longer.  I’m going to say your name, I promise.  I just need a little more time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Just admit you don’t want to say it!”  Beetlejuice snapped, his hair slowly beginning to turn from purple to red.  “Because you know that once you do, I won’t be powerless anymore, and you can’t stand it!  You want me to stay like this forever!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Willow gaped at him.  He really thought she was holding out on him so he’d remain invisible?  Had the past month taught him nothing about who she was as a person?  If she’d wanted him to stay powerless, she wouldn’t have allowed him to stay in her house.  She would’ve found a way to banish him, then gone on with her life like nothing had happened.  Didn’t he understand how much pressure this curse put her under?  If she said his name, she’d be responsible for everything he did.  They were friends now, and as his friend, she owed it to him to keep an eye on him until he could be trusted to act in a way that wouldn’t endanger himself or anyone else.  She couldn’t unleash him on the world unless she was absolutely sure he wouldn’t burn it all down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She shook her head.  “No, you’re wrong.  I do want to say your name, I’m just worried, that’s all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The demon snarled, so angry his scruff turned a fiery red, just like his hair.  “Don’t give me that ‘worried’ shit, I’m not stupid!  You’re just using me so you can feel like you have a friend and you’re not just a sorry waste of space!  You don’t want to be lonely, so you’re forcing me to stay here, holding my name over me so I don’t leave!  You’re pathetic!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Beetlejuice, please-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “No, shut up!  I’m done listening to your excuses!  Either say my name right now or I’m leaving, I can’t stand being in this fucking house with you anymore!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     If he wanted to give ultimatums, then fine.  Willow wasn’t afraid to call his bluff, she’d let him leave if that’s what he really wanted.  It wasn’t like she was keeping him here against his will, he was well aware of the fact that he could leave at any time.  He could go wherever his small, black heart desired, and she’d be able to go back to her normal life.  They both would be a lot better off.  Maybe then he would even be lucky enough to find someone else who could see him, and he’d be able to trick them into saying his name.  And if he didn’t, too bad.  That’s what he got for losing his patience and biting the hand that fed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Then leave,”  she said hoarsely, pointing to the door.  “Get out of my house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Beetlejuice stared at her, the red in his hair and scruff fading to blue.  “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “You heard me.  Leave.  You told me to say your name or you were leaving, and I’m not going to say it right now, so you can leave.  It shouldn’t be hard for you since you hate me so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I never said any of that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally </span>
  </em>
  <span>just said ‘either say my name right now or I’m leaving’.  You’ve made your choice and so have I.  Don’t like it?  Play shitty games, get shitty prizes, I don’t know what to tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He glowered at her, his jaw set.  “Fine, I’ll go.  And when you cry because I’m gone, just know it’s because you’re-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Pathetic, I know,”  she interrupted icily.  “I heard you the first time.  Now go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He gave her one final dark look and vanished.  She listened intently, trying to determine if he was actually gone or just invisible, and after a few minutes realized that the house was indeed empty of his presence.  A bitter lump caught in her throat but she swallowed it down.  Why bother getting upset about it?  It served her right for getting involved with a demon.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Play shitty games, get shitty prizes,” she repeated to herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She turned her attention back to her laptop, but she wasn’t in the mood to write anymore, so she just closed it up.  She went back downstairs to the living room, flopping down onto the couch.  She looked out the window at the rain; it was still falling pretty hard out there, and it was going to get dark soon.  For a fleeting moment she hoped that Beetlejuice was somewhere inside, but immediately squashed the thought.  Why should she care what happened to him?  He wouldn’t waste time thinking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  No, wherever he was he was doing fine and having a better time than she was, and she probably wasn’t even crossing his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ‘Still, he’s a demon, he’s not supposed to think about others.  Just because we had a fight doesn’t mean I want something horrible to happen to him.  He’s my friend.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Not that it mattered.  Even if something </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>happen to him somehow, it’s not like she would be able to find him.  He was gone, and knowing his powers, he was either back in the Netherworld or somewhere far, far away and out of her reach.  There was nothing she could do.  Willow turned away from the window and switched the tv on, scrolling through the channels until she found one that was having an Alfred Hitchcock marathon.  She curled up into a little ball on the couch cushion, resting her chin on her knees, doing her best to pay attention to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rear Window</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Every once in a while a joke would pop in her head, or some comment, and she'd turn to look at his usual spot on the couch, but of course it was empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ‘Get it together,’ she scolded herself. ‘He’s not coming back.’</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice appeared in the cemetery, facedown on top of a freshly-covered grave, the rain falling steadily around him.  Usually he wouldn’t mind a fresh layer of graveyard dirt to add to his look, but he just wasn’t in the mood for it right now.  Especially when he didn’t even have his overcoat to keep out the chill and the dampness.  He slowly heaved himself to his feet, brushing himself off, then sat down on the newly-dead’s headstone, swinging his legs sadly.  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     "You really fucked it all up, didn’t you?”  he said aloud, his chin in his hands.  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     There was a strange feeling eating away at his chest.  It wasn’t sadness, he was used to that, but it had a similar pang.  Oh God/Satan, was it guilt?  That’s what it was, wasn’t it?  He was feeling guilty because of what he said to Willow.  That was new.  It made sense, though.  He’d gone completely off the rails, and now he was back to where he’d been a month ago: wandering around alone, invisible, and powerless.  Why did he have to ruin his one chance at getting what he wanted?  Willow had been so nice to him for a whole month, and he had to go and repay her by insulting her and accusing her of trying to control him.  He hadn’t really meant all that stuff, he was just frustrated.  But it didn’t matter, because she kicked him out and he’d never get the chance to tell her he was sorry.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘And why should you be sorry?’ an angry voice snarled in his head.  ‘She was the one who went back on her promise.  She was never going to say your name, she was just using you.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “But she never actually promised, did she?” he argued, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet pattering of the rain.  “The only time she promised to say it was today, and then I yelled at her and called her pathetic.  All I had to do was wait a little bit longer, but I had to lose my temper, and now my one chance at getting my powers back is shot to hell.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Yeah, she promised you, but she was never going to keep that promise.  She was only saying that so you’d calm down.  Never trust the living, remember?  It was Juno’s number one rule,’ the angry voice said slyly.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Willow never made any deals or promises with me in the beginning because she knew I would take advantage of that.  She promised me because she was close to believing that I was worthy of having my powers back.  She’s the one living person I </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>can</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> trust.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     The angry voice remained silent, but that didn’t make him feel any better.  If anything, it just made him feel worse.  Not only had he blown his chance at getting his powers back, but he’d also blown his chance at having a real friend.  Willow had known from the start that he was just out to get her to say his name, and still she treated him with kindness: letting him stay in her house, watching shows and movies with him, and letting him try to scare her all the time.  She’d even told him some stuff about herself, private stuff that she would never have told him if she didn’t trust him, if she didn’t think of him as a real friend, and he paid her back by yelling at her.  Some friend he turned out to be.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     But maybe it wasn’t too late!  Maybe he could still go and apologize!  Even if she still wanted him gone after he was done, at least he would be able to tell her how sorry he was and relieve some of the guilt he was feeling.  It was possible she wouldn’t even hate him once it was over.  But no, that would be crazy, wouldn’t it?  Why would she even want to hear what he had to say?  Still, he had to try.  It was all he could do.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice hopped down from the headstone, his mind made up.  He teleported back to the house, appearing in the middle of the living room, startling Willow, who was curled up in a ball on the couch, staring blankly at some old movie on the tv.</em>
  </b>
</p><p><b><em>     “Beetlejuice?”  she gasped, sitting up.  “You’re back.”</em></b><b><em><br/></em></b> <b><em>She wasn’t yelling at him, or telling him to get the hell out, so that was a plus.  But that didn’t mean anything, either.  He’d surprised her, so she could be seconds away from screaming at him.  If he was going to apologize, it had to be quick.</em></b></p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I’m sorry about what I said!”  he blurted loudly.  “I didn’t mean any of it, I was just frustrated, that’s all.  It’s been really hard for me, because I want you to say my name so bad, and I feel like we’ve come a long way in our friendship, but it’s okay if you think we haven’t come far enough.  You’re not pathetic or a sorry waste of space, you’re actually really nice, nicer than anyone I’ve ever met, honestly, and a really good friend, and I know I don’t deserve it, but will you please give me another chance?  I won’t bother you about saying my name anymore, I swear, you don’t even have to say it, but please, just let me stay here with you again!”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could make a sound he was babbling again:</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I won’t even stay in the house if you don’t want me to!  I can sleep in the yard, or on the roof, hell, I’ll camp out in the driveway!  Just please, let me come back!”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Beej-“</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Look, I know you probably want nothing to do with me after today, and I don’t blame you, I was a huge dick to you, but I’m literally begging you to give me another shot!”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     He dropped to his knees in front of her, trying to look as earnest as possible, but he had the feeling he was failing miserably.  He knelt like that for what felt like hours as she stared down at him, her brow furrowed.  It hadn’t worked, it was too late to take everything back, any second now she was going to tell him to get the hell out…</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Beej, it’s okay, I forgive you,”  she said at last, smiling warmly.  “Obviously you can come back if that’s what you want to do.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     He must have been hallucinating because it almost sounded like she forgave him and was inviting him back.  But that was impossible because there was no way she would do that.  He’d been so awful to her, how could she forgive him?  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I don’t understand.  Aren’t you mad?”  he asked quietly, getting back to his feet.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     She rolled her eyes.  “Please, I’ve had people say worse things to me.  You should’ve heard some of the things Opal screamed at me when we broke up.  Believe me, you’re going to have to do a lot better than that to get me to hate you.  We just had a little fight, that’s all.  I’m willing to move past it if you are.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     A wave of relief swept through Beetlejuice so fast his knees almost buckled.  He collapsed onto the couch next to Willow, heaving a happy sigh he didn’t need.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “That makes me feel so much better.  I thought you were going to hate me,” he admitted.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     She giggled.  “No, of course not.  We’re friends, and sometimes friends fight.  What matters is that you apologized.  I didn’t think demons did that sort of thing.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Not all of them.  Like my mom?  She’d never do that.  I’m just different.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Juno was always giving him shit for being different from the other demons.  No matter what he did, he just wasn’t good enough.  He wasn’t smart enough to work for her in the Netherworld (not that he wanted to, the dead were </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>so</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> boring, always complaining about who and what they left behind), he was too sensitive, and he had a “desperate, disgusting need to be loved” as she liked to remind him.  He’d always thought that being different was bad, but if Willow didn’t mind it, neither would he.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I like that you’re different,”  she said gently.  “It means I can do this:  Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7: With Great Power Comes A Great Need To Prank Others</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Willow finally said Beetlejuice's name.  Now it's time for him to have a little fun...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Chapter 7:  With Great Power Comes A Great Need To Prank Others</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Nothing could have prepared Willow for the sheer explosion of activity that came after she said Beetejuice’s name.  The moment she uttered the last syllable he was back on his feet, beaming like a little kid at Christmas, his chest swelling with pure joy.  At first she wrote it off as him being happy to finally get what he wanted, but then he continued to swell and bloat until his body was lifted off the ground, resembling a balloon at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.  She watched him float around the room for a few seconds, gaping at him, until he suddenly burst into a shower of green and black confetti, whistles and cracks thundering around the room, so loud that even when she covered her ears she could still hear everything.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Then he was back to normal and pulling Willow to her feet, swinging her around wildly, his disembodied voice whooping and cackling around them, his own mouth babbling too much to make any proper sounds.  Then suddenly another Beetlejuice joined the party, this one taller and thinner, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from the original and trying to tango with her, only to be stopped by yet another Beetlejuice, this one shorter and fatter than the other two, who tried to kiss her, then two more appeared, ganglier and less scruffy than the real Beej, dragging her away and passing her back and forth between them, taking turns spinning her around before she was nabbed by three other Beetlejuices-none of whom had her Beetlejuice’s dark eyes-who tried to start a conga line with her, then all of the other Beetlejuices went away and she was left with the original, who was hugging her so tightly she felt like she was going to pop.  His embrace was cold, but after being pulled around the room and every which way, it felt great against her heated skin.  It was just nice to finally be able to touch him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”  he squealed.  “You won’t regret this, I promise!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ‘Odd choice of words, but okay,’ she thought vaguely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “What just happened?”  she asked breathlessly.  “There were so many of you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Those were my clones.  Did you not like them?  I thought they were a bit much, but it’s been so long since I’ve had my juice, I couldn’t resist.  They’ve been crammed in my closet since I moved in, I figured they’d appreciate being let out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     That explained the weird noises she heard coming from his closet.  She was afraid that he kept some kind of demonic creature, a hellish pet of his, that would tear the place apart if it ever managed to get out.  Knowing that it was just a whole bunch of Beetlejuice clones was a lot less anxiety inducing.  Though they could probably do just as much damage as a hell-beast, at least they would only do so under strict instruction from the real Beetlejuice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “No, that was fun!  It was just surprising, that’s all.  What else can you do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I’m glad you asked!  Get a load of this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He snapped his fingers and the whole room began to change: the lights dimmed, the walls went from powder blue to black and white striped, the curtains were now green instead of white, the hardwood floors were covered in a thick purple carpet, and the furniture turned black.  He’d even added cobwebs and dust to make the place seem like something out of the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “What do you think?  Do I have great taste or what?”  he asked, grinning proudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Willow turned around slowly, taking it all in.  Aside from the dust and the cobwebs, it wasn’t bad.  Sure, it didn’t exactly match, but it wasn’t horrible.  She’d seen worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I kind of like it,”  she admitted, smiling.  “It’s weird, but fun.  What else?  Or do your powers only extend to decorating and creating copies of yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The demon’s eyes glinted.  “Babes, I don’t think you fully understand.  I can do pretty much anything I want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He waved his hand and she felt a strong energy flow into her, forcing her body to go rigid.  She tried to move, to speak, to do anything, but it was no use, she was completely powerless.  The energy forced her to grin and clasp her hands under her chin, and try as hard as she could to fight it, it was no use.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Beej, you’re the most amazing friend in the whole wide world!” she simpered against her will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     And just as easily as the energy entered her body it was gone, leaving her feeling strangely empty and quaky.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “What was that?” she asked, trying to stop her hands from shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Possession.  That one’s my personal favorite, next to </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he replied, pointing at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She began to slowly float off the ground as if she were attached to wires.  The initial sensation of weightlessness made her stomach churn, but once she got used to the feeling of levitating and her body being suspended in open space, it was fantastic.  She felt like a bubble, gently bobbing along, light and free.  She could’ve stayed up there forever, but all too soon she was coming back down to earth, landing gently on her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “That was awesome!” she squealed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He seemed to be getting fired up now.  He cracked his knuckles with a crazy grin, his eyes burning with a mischievous fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Will, that’s stuff any ghost can do.  I can do so much more.  Shapeshifting, transfiguration, breaking the laws of nature and physics, I can do it all.  If it causes destruction and chaos, I can do it.  Then I can clean everything up and make it look like I was never there.  Sometimes it’s even more fun than the actual chaos, because then people think the victim is crazy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She suddenly got an awful, hilarious idea, and she realized right then that hanging around a demon had definitely rubbed off on her, and maybe not in the best way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Want to do something chaotic?” she asked, smiling evilly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Looking back on it, Willow had to admit that scaring people was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much fun</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Beetlejuice had agreed to the plan immediately, not even listening to the details.  Not that she had expected him to pass up the chance to scare someone.  After being invisible for so long, she knew he was itching to get back to doing what he loved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Choosing the victim was easy.  One quick call to a subpar pizza place later (he’d wanted to go with one of her favorites, but she insisted they use a back-up because after what they were about to do, she’d never be able to patronize the place again) their order was in and the poor delivery guy would have no idea what was in store for him when he arrived.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice could hardly contain his excitement when the doorbell finally rang, signaling the arrival of his first scaring victim in decades.  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “This is going to be so good!” he exclaimed, practically vibrating with glee as he followed Willow to the door.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     She smirked.  “Don’t go nuts, just stick to the plan, okay?  We just want to scare him, not put him in therapy.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a knot, I know what I’m doing,” he grumbled, cracking his knuckles.  “This ain’t my first rodeo.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     To prove his point he conjured a cowboy hat on his head, only to have her snatch it off his head and toss it behind them.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Focus, Beej.  Are you ready?”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     He nodded and turned invisible, dimming the lights to give an eerie ambience.  Without further discussion she opened the door, greeting the delivery guy with a small smile.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Here’s your pizza.  That’ll be fifteen dollars.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     The delivery guy was tall and scrawny, with oily black hair and a pimply face that resembled the surface of the moon.  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I have to grab my purse.  Why don’t you come in?  It’ll only take a second.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     She was good, he had to give her props.  There was no hint of malice or mischief in her voice, and she wasn’t overly sweet.  She just seemed like a polite, harmless young woman.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     The kid shrugged and stepped inside.  While Willow rummaged around in her purse for her wallet, giving a few extra digs and shakes just for show, Beetlejuice went to work.  He dislodged his hand from his wrist and set it floating behind the kid’s head, where it tickled the back of his neck.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     The kid yelped and slapped the back of his neck, whirling around and finding nothing there.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Willow looked up from her feigned search, her brow furrowed.  “Something wrong?”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     The kid frowned.  “I thought...never mind.  You almost done over there?”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     She finally pulled out her wallet.  “Got it!  How much was it again?”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Fifteen dollars.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     As she fished around in her wallet for the money, Beetlejuice allowed himself to appear in front of the kid, who almost jumped out of his skin when the demon materialized right before his eyes.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “How’d you do that?” he asked, his voice shaking.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     The demon grinned.  “That?  Simple parlor trick, just like </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>this</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     He reached up and ripped his head from his neck and threw it at him, cackling madly.  The kid screamed and ducked, his eyes shut tight.  By the time he opened his eyes again the demon had turned invisible once more.  This kid was pretty tough; his knees were shaking and all of the blood had drained from his face, but he hadn’t run away screaming yet.  Maybe working as a pizza delivery guy was a weirder job than most people thought.  It must be if he was so chill about having a severed head thrown at him.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Where’d he go?”  he asked, swiveling his head around in his search for his tormentor.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Willow frowned and walked over with the money.  “Where did who go?”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “That guy!  Is he your boyfriend or something?”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Are you trying to mess with me?  There’s no one here but us.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice appeared behind her, waving at him from over her shoulder.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “He’s right there!” the kid shrieked, pointing.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     She turned but he was gone again.  She looked back at the kid, her brow furrowed.  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “There’s nothing there.  Are you feeling okay?”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Yeah, are you feeling okay?  We wouldn’t want you to lose your head.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice appeared behind her once again, spinning his head on his finger like a basketball.  That was the tipping point.  The kid shoved the pizza box in her hands, seizing the money without even counting it.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Fuck this, I’m out of here!” he cried, stumbling back before turning around and fleeing out the door.  Two seconds later there was the sound of tires squealing out of the driveway as he peeled out, barreling his car down the street as fast as he could.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>     “That was fun,” Willow giggled, closing the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Why’d you pay him?  I bet if you’d given me one more second he would’ve just ran out without the money,” Beetlejuice insisted, trailing her into the kitchen where she set the box down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Because we terrorized him.  I don’t want him getting in trouble at work,” she explained.  “Do you want any of this?  Wait, do you need to eat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I don’t need to eat but that’s never stopped me.  Food is just </span>
  <em>
    <span>so good</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     To prove his point he opened the box and took out half of the pizza, folding it and tearing into it like a lion devours its kill.  In seconds it was gone, his face covered in a mess of grease and sauce that he wiped away with his sleeve. That frenzied display effectively killed her appetite.  She wrinkled her nose and closed the box, pushing it as far away from her as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He belched loudly and grinned, patting his stomach.  “Yep, that hits the spot!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She resisted the urge to retch.  “I’m glad you’re satisfied.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Aren’t you hungry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “No, oddly enough, I couldn’t imagine eating anything right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms, finding herself staring at him in awe.  As disgusting as he was, she couldn’t say that he wasn’t immensely powerful, and she had the distinct impression that she’d just barely scratched the surface.  The little prank they’d pulled on the delivery guy, and the stunts that he had done beforehand, all of it was a fraction of what he could do.  He was basically vibrating with untapped potential.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “You’re amazing.  Seriously, I mean it,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He chuckled.  “Don’t I know it, doll.  And now that I’ve got my powers back, I can quit moping around here and get back to work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ‘Demons have jobs?’ she asked herself.  ‘What kinds of jobs would they possibly have?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Yeah, I’m a bio-exorcist, remember?”  he adopted an appalling Southern accent. “Them breathers ain’t gonna scare themselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The excitement and giddiness Willow had been feeling since they played the prank on the delivery boy quickly evaporated.  ‘Of course, he got what he wanted, so he can leave for real now,’ she thought sadly.  The only reason why he came back and apologized was because she was his only chance at becoming visible again.  Sure, maybe their friendship actually meant something to him, but his primary motivation this whole time was to get his powers back, and now he had them.  Why would he choose to stick around here when he didn’t need to?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Oh, right.  I’ve officially summoned you, so you don’t need to stay here anymore,” she said, running her fingers through her hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She tried not to sound sad about it.  She didn’t want him to think he needed to stick around for her sake.  How pathetic was that, a human latching onto a demon for some source of friendship?  </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Shit, she’s kicking me out,’ Beetlejuice thought wildly.  ‘Shit, shit, shit, shit!  It’s because of the clones, isn’t it?  I knew that was a bad idea and I did it anyway.’  He should’ve just continued to keep them locked away in the closet of his room like a normal demon, but no, he had to get excited and let them loose, and now she was completely freaked out, and she wanted him gone.  He’d thought he was in the clear after he apologized to her for what happened earlier, and since they’d banded together to scare the pants off an innocent teenager, but now she was all but showing him the door.  Where was he supposed to go now?  He wasn’t about to go back to the Netherworld, the rents there were outrageous (and the neighbors were the </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>worst</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>), and it’s not like he’d be able to find another breather who would be willing to shack up with him.  Willow was the first true friend he’d made in a long time, he didn’t want to leave her now.  But he couldn’t exactly tell her that, either.  Why would a breather like her want a demon hanging around, friend or no?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>     “No, I guess not,” he replied, a smile fixed on his face.  “Now you don’t have to put up with my shit anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Despite his smile, his hair was turning blue and purple, betraying how he truly felt.  Willow pretended not to notice it, her heart lifting.  For someone who talked a lot about leaving, he clearly didn’t want to go.  So what was he playing at?  Was this his weird way of asking if he could keep staying here?  Or did he think she wanted him to leave?  What exactly was happening between the two of them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Beej, you know you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, right?” she said gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     His face lit up and his hair went back to green.  “Really?  I can stay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She giggled.  “Yeah, you’ve been here for a month, why would I kick you out now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Suddenly he was hugging her again, tighter than before (and did he have extra arms?).  She hugged him back, stifling another giggle.  For a demon, he really seemed to like hugs.  Probably because up until now, he couldn’t interact with anyone.  Usually she hated being touched in any way, shape, or form, but she was happy to reciprocate if it made him feel better.  Until she felt his cold fingers pinch her ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Ow!  Beetlejuice!”  she shrieked, pushing him away and smacking him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He chuckled mischievously.  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.  And watch it with the ‘B’ word, say it three times in a row again and I get sent back to the Netherworld.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She glared at him.  “Do that again and that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>where you’re going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He held his hands up in surrender.  “Sorry, I’ll be a model roommate from now on!  Well sort of, I can’t pay rent, so there’s that, but I’ll eat any bugs I find!  Especially the spiders, since you hate them so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     ‘Gross.  Not that I should be surprised, he’s a weird guy.’  Besides, if it helped him feel like he was contributing in some way, whatever, let him eat all the bugs and spiders he wanted.  As long as he didn’t do it in front of her, it was fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Whatever floats your boat, weirdo,” she said cheerfully.  “As long as you feel like you’re doing your part.  Now let’s go watch a movie or something to celebrate.  You can pick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     They went back into the living room (which was still decked out in the new decor Beetlejuice had conjured up) and took their usual seats on the sofa.  He turned on some Alfred Hitchcock movie he found after a quick sweep of the channels, but he was too giddy to pay attention to what was happening on the screen.  Willow had summoned him, and she wasn’t forcing him out.  On the contrary, she’d asked him to </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>stay</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>.  The little fuzzy, tingly feelings were back with a vengeance.  He could interact with breathers and their world now, which meant he could interact with </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>her</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>.  He’d already hugged her, and she seemed to like that (she didn’t like getting her ass pinched, but whatever, he’d work up to that), maybe if he played his cards right, they could move on to something more.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa, pump the brakes there,’ he scolded himself.  Where the fuck did that come from?  Moving on to something more?  Why would he even think about something like that?  What else could they be?  Business partners?  Just what exactly did these funny feelings mean, and why did they come with weird ideas?  It was already driving him crazy that he couldn’t figure his emotions out, and now they were making strange thoughts pop up in his head.  He shivered, trying to force them to disappear.  If he kept allowing the weird feelings to take over like that, he was going to end up out on the streets.  It would be better to just bottle them up.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Are you okay?” Willow asked, frowning slightly.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Yeah, just a little cold,” he replied gruffly.  </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>
      <br/>
    </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>     It wasn’t a complete lie.  Being dead, he was always cold, and he hated it.  He couldn’t feel pain, (which was one of the very few joys of being dead), but he could feel discomfort, and being a walking refrigerator was not enjoyable.  It was like he was constantly suffering from hypothermia and it drove him absolutely crazy.  He hadn’t had to deal with it when he was just a shade, but now that he was back to his old self again, it was unbearable.  What he wouldn’t give just to be room temperature.  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Oh, why didn’t you say so?  Wait here, I’ll be right back.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     She darted out of the room and up the stairs, where he could hear her fiddling around in the linen closet up there.  A few minutes later she came back down with a giant fleece blanket in her arms.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Here, this should warm you up.  I made it myself.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     She tucked it around him and sat back down, not noticing the blush in his face or how pink his hair was getting.  He snuggled under the blanket, wrapping it around his whole body so he resembled a burrito.  She was right, too.  Soon enough he started warming up, and he decided right then and there that from then on, when he wasn’t using them to do his freelance work, he was going to use his powers in ways that would help her.  It was the least he could do after everything she’d done for him.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     They stayed up late watching Hitchcock movies (there was a marathon going, who knew?) until Willow started drifting off.  Beetlejuice put his powers to good use for the first time by snapping his fingers and sending the rest of the pizza into the fridge, and willing the blanket to return to its place in the linen closet.  Then he followed her upstairs, saying good night before ducking inside his room.  With another snap of his fingers he was in his sweats and lounging on the bed.  He was about to drift off to sleep when he was struck with a sudden idea.  He hadn’t been able to take her to the cemetery for their little picnic today.  What about tomorrow?  Instead of it being a front to guilt her into saying his name, he could use it to show her he genuinely cared.  It was perfect!</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I’m a genius!” he said to the ceiling.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8: "It's Not A Date, It's An Outing"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Now that Beetlejuice has his powers back, he and Willow decide to have a day out to celebrate.  But despite what it looks like (and how they feel) it's not a date.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everybody, I'm truly sorry that it took me so long to update this! I got my job back so I didn't have time to write, and then lost it (thanks covid!), which ruined my mental health for a while.  I finally got back into the groove of writing, and I promise that the next few chapters of this won't take as much time as this one did.  Here's to hoping that it was worth the long wait!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Chapter 8:  “It’s Not A Date, It’s An Outing”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Willow woke up the next morning to the sun shining brightly and every trace of yesterday’s rain gone.  It was going to be a good day, she could tell.  If she was feeling productive, she could probably get some decorating done.  Now that it was officially September, she could bring out the Halloween decorations without looking like a complete weirdo.  Maybe if she asked nicely, and if he wasn’t too busy, Beetlejuice could even conjure up some fun things for the house or yard.  At least he’d redecorated the living room for her so she wouldn’t have to worry about that room anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     She went downstairs to find him fully awake and in the kitchen, enjoying a cup of coffee, with a steaming mug of tea beside him.  He must’ve been up for a while because he was already dressed in his usual striped suit.  She sat down across from him, smiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “You’re up early.  Were you out scaring people this morning?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “You think I’m gonna work on a weekend, babes?  What do I look like to you?  I couldn’t sleep, that’s all.  Here, I made you a cup of your favorite tea!” he said happily, pushing the mug closer to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     She narrowed her eyes.  “What did you do to it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Nothing!  I mean, I kept reheating it for you while I waited for you to get up, but other than that it’s fine.  See?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He looked her dead in the eye and took a sip, not even wincing as the hot beverage went down his throat.  The gesture did nothing to get rid of her suspicions.  She was used to his old pranks, but now that he was tangible he most likely had an entire arsenal of fiendish tricks.  She wouldn’t be surprised if he put something gross in her tea.  If it even was tea and not some freaky, demon beverage from the Netherworld that would make her sick or something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “How do you know which tea is my favorite?” she asked, taking the mug from him and sniffing it to make sure it was what he claimed it to be..</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He rolled his eyes.  “I’ve been living with you for a month, I know by now that your favorite tea to have when you wake up is jasmine.  Come on, drink up, we’ve got a lot to do today!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     She gaped at him, cautiously sipping her tea (he’d been honest, it was untampered jasmine tea and he’d done a good job in making sure it wasn’t oversteeped).  “What do you mean?  What do we have to do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Had he mentioned wanting to do something last night and she completely forgot about it?  That was entirely possible, a lot of things happened yesterday, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if a few details slipped her mind while she slept.  Unless he was speaking metaphorically, as in “it’s a new day, let’s go out and make the most of it!”.  He had his powers back now, there had to be thousands of things that he wanted to do.  Like an opposite version of a bucket list.  Which was fine, she was up for doing something other than hanging around the house.  As long as he didn’t want to do anything dangerous or illegal, she was up for anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice gulped, his fingers tapping nervously against the side of his coffee mug.  The plan to have their picnic had seemed so much better when he was alone in his room.  What if Willow didn’t want to hang out with him today?  What if she had more important things to do?  What if the picnic idea freaked her out?  He hadn’t considered that maybe she wouldn’t like having a picnic in the cemetery.  Yeah, she was morbid, but it didn’t mean she was </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>that</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> morbid.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Beej?  Are you okay?” she asked tentatively, noticing his anxiety.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Since it’s such a nice day out, I think we should celebrate our anniversary </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>today</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>!  Whaddaya think?” he asked in an attempt at being casual. </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Like a date?” she asked, smirking.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “What?  Nah, it’s not a date, it’s an outing!  We’re two friends out on the town, that’s all!  Don’t make it weird, sheesh.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Beej, I’m only kidding, I know it’s not a date.  Sure, I’m up for a celebration!  What will we be doing?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “We’ll be having a picnic in the cemetery near the creek, in a shady spot I like.  Unless you don’t want to do that, we could do something else.  We don’t even have to celebrate our anniversary if you don’t want to.  I just thought it would be fun,” he rambled, trying to explain as much as he could before she said ‘no’.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “That sounds really nice!  I’ve wanted to explore the cemeteries around here for a while, and I’ll never turn down a picnic,” she smiled.  “Let me go get dressed and then we can leave.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She drained her cup of tea and ran back upstairs, leaving him alone in the kitchen.  Even though she’d agreed to the picnic, and seemed excited about it, he still felt nervous for some reason, and the fuzzy feelings were back, confusing him.  He’d started to think that the fuzzy feelings were some kind of anxiety, but he’d been anxious all morning so he could rule that out, so now he really had no idea what they meant.  They got worse when Willow came back downstairs dressed in a dark purple blouse and black skinny jeans, with just the slightest touch of makeup on.  Even her hair was done, all curled and pinned back from her face.  She looked really good for some reason.  She usually looked </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>sexy</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> but did she always look...pretty?</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Was he supposed to say something about how nice she looked?  That was a thing, right?  Or would that be weird?  Maybe she was just dressed nicely because he was wearing his suit and she didn’t want him to feel embarrassed.  Whatever her plan, it wasn’t helping him to ignore the fluttering in his stomach.  This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Okay, I’m all set...What’s going on with you?” Willow asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Beetlejuice was still sitting at the table where she’d left him, but now his hair and his scruff were a bubblegum pink.  This was a new look for him.  She knew green was his default, happy color, purple meant he was upset, red indicated anger, and blue expressed he was sad, but what did pink mean?  Was he stressed out?  Judging by his face he was stressed out.  Unless it meant something else.  She didn’t bother asking, she knew he would deflect or lie or try to hide his hair so he wouldn’t have to give her a proper answer.  She’d just have to keep an eye out for it in the future and hope to figure it out then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Nothing!  I’m fine, babes. Totally fine, I’m the </span>
  <em>
    <span>definition </span>
  </em>
  <span>of fine,” he replied, clearing his throat.  “Let’s get going, shall we?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Sure.  I’ll grab my keys and we can head out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Don’t bother, I know a faster way to get there.  Here, take my hand,” he said, holding a grubby palm out to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     She did as she was told, lacing her fingers with his stiff, frigid ones.  Before she knew what was happening she felt like she was being flipped upside down and everything went dark.  A moment later she was back on her feet in the warm sunshine, still holding onto Beetlejuice’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     She let go and fell to her knees on the grass, her stomach churning and her head spinning so badly she was afraid she would pass out.  She wasn’t sure what he’d done exactly, but they were now in the cemetery near the creek; she could hear it burbling from where she was kneeling.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Sorry, babes, I shoulda warned you to take a deep breath or something,” he said apologetically, grabbing her hand again and helping her to her feet.  “I’ve never teleported with a breather before, I didn’t think the jump would be that bad for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “That’s okay,” she said weakly, shaking her head to clear it.  “I was caught by surprise, that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     They stood there for a second, still holding hands, while she got her bearings once again.  She kept telling herself to let go of him, but for some reason her hand wouldn’t obey her brain.  Despite it being so cold, holding his hand felt nice; his grip was strong but not painful, and she could feel his skin slowly beginning to warm up as it pressed against hers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “You good now?” he asked hesitantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     She snapped out of it, releasing her hold on him.  “Yeah, sorry.  Lead the way, Beej.  You’re in charge.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He puffed out his chest, grinning broadly.  “Yeah, that’s right, I’m in charge!  Follow me, Will!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Willow followed Beetlejuice through the cemetery, every once in a while stopping to look at some of the names and dates on the tombstones as they walked, something she enjoyed any time she visited a cemetery.  Seeing how old some of the graves were, wondering what the deceased people had been like, and if they had any surviving family and loved ones, always interested her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “You know, I didn’t think you’d be up for this,” he said, looking back at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “I’ve always liked cemeteries,” she said, stopping to look at a mausoleum with the name ‘Crane’ carved over the door.  “Even when I was a little kid and we would go visit Mattie’s grave.  They’re quiet and no one bothers you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     The demon smiled crookedly.  “Not always.  People in cemeteries are the best to scare.  Especially at night, when teenagers break in because they want to see a ghost.  They’re already on edge because they think something is going to jump out at them, it’s so easy.  They basically do all the work for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Wait, there are teenagers who actually break into cemeteries after dark?  I thought that only happened in movies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “No, it happens all the time.  Kids suck.  The spot is right over there, under that tree.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     They trudged through the grass to a shady spot under a large yew tree.  Nestled on a small hill, it overlooked most of the cemetery, with a lovely view of the creek as it wound its way around the entire area.  Beetlejuice snapped his fingers and a black and green striped blanket appeared spread out on the grass, on top of which sat a black wicker picnic basket overflowing with different snacks and drinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Some of the snacks may be a little weird, since they’re from the Netherworld, but I promise they’re all fit for breather consumption,” he said, plopping down on the blanket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Willow sat next to him and picked up a packet of something called Ghoul Gummies.  From what she could tell, they were gummy snacks shaped like shrunken heads.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Are you sure?  These say that they’re made from real jellied spiders,” she said, wrinkling her nose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He shrugged, snatching the packet away from her and tearing into it.  “Bugs are a good source of protein, right?  Not all of them are like that, I had to throw a few things in there that I like, too.  Here, try this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He tossed her a Coffin Cake, which thankfully turned out to be an ordinary (and very tasty) chocolate cupcake in the shape of a coffin.  There were other somewhat-normal treats too, like Pumpkin Buddies (little cheese crackers that were shaped like jack o’lanterns), scones shaped like skulls, Fungus Fudge (made from mushrooms, which she steered clear of), a soda called Kadaver Kola that was similar to Cherry-Vanilla Coke, and chewy blueberry candies in the shape of bats.  Of course, he insisted that she needed to try his favorite snack, chocolate-covered crickets, and after quite a bit of psyching herself up and listening to him go on and on about how bugs were a common snack in some parts of the world (“Come on, babes, they eat scorpion suckers in Arizona and larva snacks in Asia, you can try one little chocolate-covered cricket!”), she did so, surprised to find that they weren’t as horrible as they sounded.  The chocolate definitely helped to mask the taste of the cricket, and she wouldn’t have known what it was if he hadn’t told her beforehand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Do you do this a lot?” she asked, watching him attack a package of sour worms (not gummy worms, actual worms).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He slurped up a worm and chewed it thoughtfully.  “What, binge-eat junk food?  Usually I only do it when I’m sad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “No, do you come here a lot?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Oh, uh, I guess.  When you’re at work or something and I’m bored.  No point in hanging around the living, so I come here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “But why a cemetery?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “I’m a dead guy.  Where else would I go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     After eating their fill of the snacks they went back to exploring the cemetery, reading aloud fun names to each other and pointing out gravestones and markers they thought were interesting or fancy.  At first Beetlejuice remained on his best behaviour, merely content to walk among the graves by her side, but after a while he started getting restless and made a game of jumping from tombstone to tombstone, knocking over flowerpots and decorations as he went.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Isn’t that a little disrespectful?” Willow asked, wincing as he kicked a particularly expensive-looking bauble out of his way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     His brow furrowed in confusion.  “What’s your point?  Look, babes, these guys are dead, dones-o.  They’ve left the building.  Their souls are in the Netherworld and their bodies are worm food.  There’s nothing in this place but bones and dust.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Yeah, but they should still be treated like they matter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “That’s what I don’t get about you breathers.  Someone dies and you’re all about “respecting” them, but you see homeless people in the streets and just walk right on by, and ignore people who need help because they “deserve to suffer” or “didn’t work hard enough” or “live in sin”.  You give more respect to the dead than you do all the breathers who are alive and actually need it.  But what do I know?  I’m just a simple demon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     She shrugged.  “I can’t speak for the rest of humanity, and I don’t want to because a lot of humans are straight-up horrible when it comes to how they treat others, but I think that unless they did something despicable or downright evil, people should be treated with respect and compassion.  And that includes respecting the dead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He hopped off the tombstone and groaned.  “Ugh, fine, if it bothers you so much I’ll stop.  Just quit preaching at me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “I wasn’t...never mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     After walking through a few more rows a question popped into her head, and she couldn’t help but ask it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Beetlejuice, do you have a grave?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He stopped and turned, his brow furrowed.  “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Oh god, I’m sorry, I was only wondering because, you know, you said you were alive and then you were killed...I’m so sorry, you probably don’t want to talk about it,” she said quickly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid,’ she chided herself. ‘What’d you have to go and ask him that for?  It’s none of your business.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “It’s cool.  Honestly, I’ve never thought about what they did with my body,” he confessed. “It didn’t matter at the time.  Anyway, it’s not like I would want to visit it.  That would be too meta for me, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Man, leave it to a breather to ask something like that.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice couldn’t blame Willow for her curiosity.  She hadn’t really asked him anything else about death before this, expressing her wish to keep everything a surprise, so he couldn’t begrudge her the question about his possible grave.  Still, it was a weird thing to think about; his essence or whatever he was made of floating about while his body rotted somewhere.  Almost like he was in two places at once.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I’m really sorry if I offended you,” she said sheepishly.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He smiled.  “Nah, I don’t care.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Someone caring if they hurt his feelings.  That was definitely a first.  Juno wouldn’t feel like her day was productive until she found three creative ways to tell him he never should’ve been born, and not even the Maitlands or Lydia worried about upsetting him.  Now he had a friend who was actively trying not to offend him.  How weird.  </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>But she was always doing weird things like that, being considerate and stuff.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     They walked a little further through the cemetery, but Beetlejuice was quickly growing bored and anxious to do something else.  ‘Ugh, why didn’t I plan something else after the picnic?’ he thought furiously.  ‘I should’ve thought this through but I didn’t and now our fun day is boring as hell.’  So much for an exciting day.  He briefly considered just going back home, but that wasn’t ideal.  What would they do there?  Watch movies or something?  They were always doing that.  Today was meant for doing special things.  He had his powers back, they could do anything they wanted!  Why was this so hard?</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Out of ideas, he found himself asking:  “What do you want to do now, Will?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She shrugged.  “We could go to my favorite place next.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     If it was anything like where she worked, it would be the most uninteresting place on the planet.  But he didn’t have any alternatives, so he couldn’t tell her ‘no’.  At least it would give him something to do until he thought of other activities for their fun day out.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “All right, sure.  Where are we going?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Do you know how to get to Main Street?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     The question offended him more than it should have.  “Do I know how to get to Main Street?  Will, I’m a demon with reality-bending powers, I can go wherever the hell I want.  So yeah, I think I can get us to Main Street.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She crossed her arms, pouting slightly.  “How am I supposed to know what you can do?  I’m just a human!”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Whatever, shut up and take my hand.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She rolled her eyes and laced her fingers with his.  He gave her time to take a deep breath then made the jump, plunging both of them into darkness.  Seconds later they appeared in the center of Main Street, terrifying a little old lady who was hobbling by.  The sight of her running down the sidewalk as fast as her wobbly legs could carry her, shrieking her head off, made him cackle so hard his head fell off.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Keep it together, we’re in public!” Willow hissed, fumbling with his head.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Did you see her face?  I think she pissed herself!” he said gleefully, taking his head from her and screwing it back onto his neck.  He forgot how easy it could be to scare some breathers.  If other people in this town were the same, he’d have a great time when he started back at work the next day.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Come on, let’s get going before the cops show up,” she replied, tugging him down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of the old lady.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice was expecting her to take him to a plant store or a greeting card shop, but when she stopped outside of a little place called ‘Gather and Game’, a little brick building in the middle of the street painted a vibrant shade of purple.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “This is it.  Best cafe in town,” she said brightly, smiling broadly.  “You can rent games to play while you have your coffee.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He looked at the cafe, then back at her, then back at the cafe, his respect for her skyrocketing.  He never would have guessed she would do something as fun as this.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “You actually go here?” he asked incredulously.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She sniffed.  “Yeah, of course I do.  Mariah and I come here once a week.  Why? Do you think it’s lame?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He shook his head.  “No, I didn’t think you’d do something this cool.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She clicked her tongue.  “Right, because I’m </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>boring</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>.  Keep it up and you can buy your own coffee, Beej.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He followed her inside, which was just as colorful and lively as the outside.  It wasn’t a big place, and despite the small number of people inside, it was a little crowded and incredibly noisy.  Different types of games were stacked behind glass cases, small tables painted like chess boards made up the seating area, and in the corner there was a cafe counter to buy coffee shop drinks and treats.  It was chaotic, it was a little hipster, and it was </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>awesome</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “You let them know what game you want to play when you order and then they bring everything to you,” Willow explained.  “Most games you can play for an hour, unless it’s Monopoly.  That one has a three hour minimum.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Do they have Cards Against Humanity?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Yeah, but you need more than two people and they don’t bring it out until after eight o’clock.  They try to keep things family-friendly.  Go get us a table, I’ll order drinks and my favorite game.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She went over to the cafe counter, getting in line behind a group of kids.  He made his way through the seating area to a table in the corner.  Surprisingly, no one gave him a second glance.  Mostly the other patrons were too wrapped up in their gameplay or their coffee to pay him any mind, and the one kid who </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>did</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> notice him flashed him a grin and gave him a thumbs-up for some reason.  ‘Kids are weird,’ he thought dismissively. ‘Either something freaks them out or they think it’s cool.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He was only waiting for a few minutes until Willow came back with a plastic table marker labeled ‘13’.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I got you a black coffee, I hope that’s okay,” she said, sliding into the seat across from him.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Whatever, coffee is coffee,” he replied.  “What game are we playing?  If it’s Scrabble I’m gonna be pissed.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Why would I pick Scrabble when I know you can’t spell?  No, you’ll love the game I picked, it’ll make you laugh.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “God/Satan, is it Trivial Pursuit?  That’s definitely a game you’d play.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “No, it’s not that either.  Wait two seconds, here it comes now.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     A barista rolled up to their table with a cart and set down two coffee cups and their game.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Dude, cool cosplay!  Is there a convention in town?” she asked Beetlejuice.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     The kid giving him a thumbs-up finally made sense.  Everyone here wasn’t freaked out by his appearance because they thought he was a nerd in a costume and makeup.  Pop culture was making his job harder and harder these days.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Nope, this is how I look,” he replied flatly.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Cool.  Have fun, guys.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     The barista rolled away, leaving Willow giggling uncontrollably in her wake.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Shut up,” he grumbled.  “It’s not that funny.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I don’t know, I think it’s pretty funny.  The look on your face-”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Whatever.  What game are we playing?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She tapped the box that sat between them, bringing it to his attention for the first time.  He looked from the box to her, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.  They were going to have to work on her sense of humor because it wasn’t nearly as clever as she thought it was.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Life?  Really?” he asked.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She shrugged.  “I thought you’d appreciate the irony.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He chuckled.  “Of course you did.  Just for that, I’m gonna make sure you lose.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Bring it on, Beej.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     One hour of intense gameplay later, not only had Willow managed to win somehow (despite his persistent and unabashed cheating), but had walked away with almost all of the money from the bank and half of his own.  He didn’t even know how it happened.  He’d swiped extra cards from the pile, given himself the highest paying career card, made the spinner stop on the perfect numbers to place him on every single payday, and taken money from the bank when she wasn’t looking, and she </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>still</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> won.  She was a goddamn board game witch.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “It’s not fair, you had an advantage because you’re alive,” he whined as they left the cafe.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She rolled her eyes.  “I don’t think that’s how the game works, Beej.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Yes it is, it’s in the fine print on the back of the rules.  What do you wanna do now?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Her eyes lit up.  “Shopping!  Now that you’re tangible, you need some new clothes.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He frowned, looking down at his suit.  It was literally the most wearble thing he owned, with only a minimal amount of tears and holes and a healthy layer of dirt and grime.  What did she expect?  He was a dead guy, it’s not like he needed to keep up with the latest fashion trends.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “What’s wrong with my clothes?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Nothing!  They’re a little worn out, that’s all,” Willow said gently.  “And it won’t be a whole new wardrobe, just a couple shirts and pairs of pants.  And we can get rid of the things that are beyond repair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “You won’t make me get rid of my suit, will you?  I love this thing, I’ve had it for centuries.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Of course not.  It looks great on you, and it’s your signature look.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     His hair was pink again, she must’ve said something wrong.  She hadn’t meant anything by it, she was trying to put him at ease about getting some new outfits.  But if he was bothered by it, why was he smiling a little bit?  Whatever this emotion was, it was confusing.  Maybe it was something only demons could feel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Good.  So where to, babes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     The mall would be a terrible idea.  With that many people in one place, he was liable to cause all sorts of chaos.  He was fine in the cafe, but that had been small, and mostly everyone in there assumed he was wearing a cool costume.  He still needed to get used to people seeing him before he graduated to large crowds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Just a short walk that way,” she said, pointing behind them.  “There are a few shops down there that you might like.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He shrugged.  “Whatever.  You’re in charge now, babes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Her instincts to stay with small shops had proved to be right.  Unlike the people in the cafe, everyone they passed on the sidewalk stopped to watch him go by, or hurried across to the other side of the street so they didn’t have to come near him.  ‘He’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>weird looking,’ she thought defensively.  ‘People get hung up about the dumbest things.’  Or it could be that she’d gotten used to his strange appearance by now and no longer paid attention to the weirdness.  Either way she didn’t see what the big deal was.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     The stares seemed to increase when they entered the nearest shop.  They got a lot of side-eyes from the other customers,  and almost everyone gave them a wide berth as they browsed.  Though as they strolled amongst the racks, it was clear that the employees were watching them closely, seeming to circle around them more than anyone else who was in the shop.  Apparently they looked like the type of people who would shoplift.  But she couldn’t care less about what people thought about her or her little ghoulish friend.  She was on a mission to get him some clothes, and that was what she was going to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “What kinds of things do you like to wear?” Willow asked, stopping to look at some shirts.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Beetlejuice picked up a bright orange shirt and wrinkled his nose.  “I dunno, I like to be able to move, you know?  I don’t need anything fancy.  But no crazy colors.  My hair tends to clash with things that aren’t black or green.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Okay.  Maybe some jeans and plain t-shirts then?  Keep it simple and casual?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Sure, whatever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     The next problem they faced was getting things that fit him properly.  When she asked him for his sizes, he merely shrugged and said he wore whatever he found to be the least restricting to his body.  Not exactly the most helpful response.  So she did the only thing she could think of in that moment: she sent him into the changing room with a range of clothing sizes, and demanded he try on each piece until he found something he deemed to be comfortable.  She then spent the next fifteen minutes in a chair outside the changing room, trying hard to keep a straight face as his mumbled stream of curses and comments reached her ears.  Every once in a while he would toss something over the side of the stall that he didn’t like the fit or feel of, until she had a pile of rumpled clothes at her feet.  When he finally stepped out, wearing a pair of black straight-leg jeans and an olive green v-neck, he was still grumbling.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Well?  How bad is it?” he asked, turning so she could see every angle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Her face grew hot and she knew she was blushing.  The jeans were a little bit long on him and he could’ve gone down a shirt size (she could see just the slightest hint of green chest hair poking out from the collar that made her weak), but he looked fantastic.  He was always handsome, and now that he was wearing clothes that weren’t falling apart or covered in dirt, he was pretty much perfect.  ‘Why does he have to be attractive?  He’s dead, there should be some rules against that,’ she thought wildly.  This crush was going to kill her.  Slowly but surely, it would kill her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “You look great, bug.  How does that outfit feel?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He stared at her, his hair bubblegum pink.  “What did you just call me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     ‘God, did I say that out loud?  Get it together, Willow!’ she admonished herself.  She’d wanted to give him a nickname for a while now, and thought that it would be okay now that they had a serious friendship, but she was clearly wrong.  ‘Look what you did, that color is back again.’  She was considering calling pink the “danger color” now.  Why was she so terrible at keeping him relaxed today?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Sorry, I called you ‘bug’, is that okay?  I just thought since you like pet names so much, maybe I should give </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>one,” she explained quickly.  “I won’t use it if it upsets you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He seemed to relax slightly; the green was slowly beginning to return to his hair.  “No, it caught me off guard, that’s all.  ‘Bug’, huh?  Yeah, I can get used to that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     She cleared her throat.  “Great.  So how do you like the clothes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He looked down, as if he had forgotten he had been trying outfits on.  “Oh, um, these are fine.  I can work with these.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Do you want to try anything else on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “No, I don’t need a whole bunch of stuff when I’ve got things at home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Okay.  Get changed and then we’ll go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He shuffled back into the changing room, giving her a chance to get her head back on straight.  She scooped up the pile of clothing at her feet and went to put it all back where it belonged.  She walked through the shop, stopping every so often to refold and replace a shirt or a pair of jeans, grateful for the mindless task.  She wasn’t sure if he’d picked up on her blushing, but if she didn’t keep it together he was going to find her out and then she’d be in serious trouble.  The last thing she wanted to do was admit her crush to his face.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “All set, babes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He appeared next to her, his chosen jeans and shirt tight in his arms.  She set the last shirt on the rack in front of her and smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Yeah, I’d say so.  Here, I’ll take those.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     She took the jeans and shirt from him, and after checking their sizes, added another pair of pants and a black v-neck shirt to the pile, ignoring his complaints that he “didn’t need them”, and dragged him up front to the register.  After paying for the clothes then went back out onto Main Street, pretending not to notice the relieved sighs from the employees as they made their exit.  She hadn’t managed to buy him as many things as she would have liked, but it was still a victory in her eyes.  Beetlejuice swung the bag happily as they walked, smiling broadly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “I can’t wait to wear my new digs, I’ll be the best dressed demon on this side!” he said proudly.  “Thanks a lot, babes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “You’re the only demon on this side,” Willow pointed out.  “And it’s just jeans and shirts, nothing major.  Do you want to take a look at some other places?  I bet we can get you all kinds of new outfits.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Nah, let’s not get too crazy.  I’ve got an image to maintain, you know?  I can’t scare breathers if I’m dressed like an average Joe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He was the furthest thing from an average Joe, whether he was in his suit or casually dressed, but she wasn’t going to press the issue.  If she really wanted to replace his wardrobe, she could easily buy him things online and surreptitiously put them in his room when he wasn’t home.  If she was careful enough, she could probably toss out half of his things before he even noticed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Fair enough.  Then what do you-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     The sound of her phone ringing cut her off.  She glanced at the screen, expecting it to be Cora, but rolled her eyes when she saw it was work.  She mouthed ‘sorry’ to him then answered the call, silently hoping they wouldn’t ask her to come in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Hey, Will,” Mariah sounded well and cheerful, which was a good sign.  “Sorry to bother you on your day off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “No problem, what’s up, Mariah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Don’t worry, this isn’t a crisis call.  Can you stop by the library today?  Some guy who said he was a friend of yours left a package here for you.  I’d leave it here so you could grab it tomorrow, but I don’t want someone to take it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     That didn’t make any sense.  She didn’t have any other guy friends around here other than Beetlejuice, and she couldn’t imagine that Mike drove all the way here just to drop something off at her work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Did you get his name?” she asked, frowning.  “Or do you know what he looked like?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “No, I didn’t talk to him.  Maureen was the one he went up to, and you know how she is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Maureen was an eighty-five year old volunteer who worked at the help desk.  On top of having extremely poor eyesight, she was mostly deaf.  There was no chance she would remember what the guy looked like or what his name was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Oh well, thought I’d ask.  I’ll be there soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “What was that about?” Beetlejuice asked as she hung up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Nothing, I just need to swing by the library to pick something up,” she replied. “Why don’t we stop by the house?  You can put your things away while I drive over there.  Then when I come back we can discuss what else we want to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He raised an eyebrow.  “Why would we do that when we’re already out?  Let’s go there now and go home after.  I don’t mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Are you sure?  I thought you hated the library.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “I do, but it’s just an errand.  I can handle that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Okay, then.  As long as you’re sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice held out his hand but Willow hesitated.  </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “We won’t pop up too close to the building, right?  I don’t mind freaking people out on the street, but causing a scene at my job isn’t ideal.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He rolled his eyes.  “Just take my hand.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She did as she was told, taking a deep breath.  In a flash they had left Main Street behind and were across the street from the library, obscured by a large clump of bushes, just out of sight so no one would notice their sudden appearance.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “See? I know what I’m doing,” he grumbled.  “You act like I’m an amateur.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I’m sorry, I felt like it needed to be said!  Now let’s go!”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She tugged him across the street and into the building, not letting go of his hand until they were inside.  They bypassed the help desk and drop-off box on the first floor, where an elderly woman was snoring away at the computer, and headed upstairs to the second floor.  Her cute friend-what was her name?  Mariah?-was working at the help desk, sorting through a pile of returns, and looked more than happy to have them distract her from the task.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Hey, Will!  You got here fast!  And who is this?” she asked, her eyes sliding to Beetlejuice.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “We were in the neighborhood, we’ve been running around today.  Mariah, this is my friend BJ.  BJ, this is-” Willow began.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I’m her best friend, actually,” he interrupted smugly, holding out a hand to Mariah.  “Nice to meet you.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Mariah giggled, shaking his hand.  “Oh, so </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>you’re</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> BJ!  I’ve heard a lot about you!  Will is talking about you constantly, and I can see why!”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     That surprised him.  He didn’t think she would talk about him while she was at work.  But he didn’t think she would mention him to Mike and Luna either, and she’d done that too.  Maybe she just really liked to complain about him to anyone who would listen.  Not that he could blame her, he was a total pest at the best of times.  It’s not like she would be talking about him for any other reason. </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “You said someone left something for me?” Willow asked bluntly, her cheeks flushed.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Yeah, here you go!” Mariah said brightly, handing over a shoebox.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Willow frowned as she opened the box, taking out a card and two hardcover books.  She ignored the books for a moment, taking time to read the card.  Beetlejuice glanced at the books, but didn’t see anything special about them.  A book was a book, they were all pretty much the same.  He was sure she had these two at her house, though.  The covers looked really familiar, anyway.  So whoever had left them clearly didn’t know her that well.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Okay, this is weird and I don’t like it,” she said at last, her frown becoming a grimace.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “What’s up, babes?  You look uneasy,” Beetlejuice said, putting an arm around her shoulders.  He tried to read the card over her shoulder, but she tore it up before he could make out the first word.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She shook her head.  “This guy claims to be my secret admirer.  He got me the books because he overheard me saying how much I love them the other day, but all I did was mention them in passing when Greg asked me for a recommendation for his son.  I wasn’t even on the floor, I was in the office!  The guy had to have been listening from outside, which is super creepy!”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     It was more than creepy.  Whoever this guy was, he was bordering on the line of stalker, and Beetlejuice didn’t like it.  He wasn’t a saint by any means, and he’d sort of stalked her at first too, but that was a different situation entirely.  He had only been out looking for a breather he could scare.  This guy was going out of his way to be a weirdo and he wanted her to know about it, and that made him angrier than he had ever felt in a long time.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He wanted to do something about this guy, like find him and make him wish he’d never laid eyes on Willow, but he couldn’t do that with a total lack of information.  In this moment he was just as powerless as she was, and he couldn’t stand it.  Why couldn’t this guy have left his name and address like a normal idiot?</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “You have no clue who this guy could be?” he pressed.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She shook her head.  “No, I have no idea.  It’s not like I go around asking everyone I meet if they’re a nutcase.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Mariah winced.  “Yeah, I don’t like that at all.  Want me to get rid of this stuff for you?”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Please.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     The books, box, and card pieces were dropped unceremoniously into the garbage, and Willow gave it all one last dirty look before turning her attention back to Mariah.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Well, thanks for letting me know about that, I guess. I’ll have to keep an eye out for a weirdo now.” She attempted a smile and failed.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She was trying to remain lighthearted about it, but he could tell she was freaked out.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Don’t worry about this guy,” Beetlejuice said, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly.  “We’ve got your back.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Yeah, and I wouldn’t worry about it unless something else happens,” Mariah insisted.  “Could be that this is a one-time, weird thing by a guy who thinks he’s being nice.  Sorry I dragged you away from your date for this.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “It’s not a date, it’s an outing!” Beetlejuice blurted, removing his arm from Willow’s shoulders and stepping away from her.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Mariah didn’t appear convinced.  “Uh huh, okay.  Well, enjoy the rest of your “outing”.  You can tell me all about it tomorrow, Will.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Goodbye, Mariah!” Willow grabbed Beetlejuice’s hand and dragged him away before he could say his farewells.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “You know, I liked her.  She was fun,” he said as they walked outside.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Yeah, she’s a lot more fun when she’s not taunting me,” Willow smirked.  “Let’s go home.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     They hopped across the street to their little hiding place and made the jump, appearing in the middle of the living room. Willow immediately collapsed on the couch, sighing with relief.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Home sweet home.  No nosy shoppers, friends, or creepy guys to bother us.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “I told you, don’t worry about that dude.  If he shows up again I’ll kill him,” he said cheerfully.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “My hero,” she replied sarcastically.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     She locked eyes with him and grinned, then quickly looked away, blushing.  ‘There she goes acting all weird again.’  He didn’t know what that was all about.  She’d blushed back at the shop, and had gotten sort of flustered while talking with Mariah, and that had confused him too.  What would she want to go and do something like that for?  ‘She must be sick from those treats she had earlier, or it’s the nausea from the jump,’ he decided.  He’d teased that she liked him, but he didn’t truly believe it.  Why would she?</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     No, breathers tend to be straight-up weird, and that’s all.  Like the ones that had skirted around him while they were out shopping, and behaved like he was going to rob them at gunpoint.  He’d wanted to play a few tricks on them, sure, but he wasn’t about to work on his day off, especially when he was out with a friend.  He </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>did</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> have standards.  Could be she picked up on the negative vibes while they were out and about and now she was anxious.  Who knew what breathers felt all the time?  Their feelings were a goddamn roller coaster.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “You stay here and relax, I’ll be back in a minute.  I want to put my stuff away.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He ran upstairs to his room and shut the door.  Looking around, he was at a total loss as to where he should put his new clothes.  He didn’t want to throw them on any of the piles of crap that took up most of the space on his floor.  They were too nice for that sort of thing, and it would completely defeat the purpose of getting new clothes in the first place.  Plus Willow would get mad if he got his new clothes dirty before he even wore them, and he didn’t want that.  He couldn’t put them in his closet, either, because his clones were still living in there and likely to rip them apart for the fun of it (he really needed to let them out some more, they had too much energy).</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     He supposed he could send his new clothes away to his place in the Netherworld, where all of his other stuff was, but that would bring about a whole other set of problems.  Thanks to his short attention span, he needed his belongings to remain as close to him as possible.  If he didn’t, they’d end up forgotten or sent away into the abyss never to be seen again (like Mr. Slithers, his pet snake).</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     “Ugh, why is this so hard?” he grumbled, looking around helplessly.  “Wait, I’ve got it!”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Beetlejuice snapped his fingers and a dresser popped into existence.  He opened a drawer, shoved his new things inside, and closed it with a snap.  Mission accomplished.  He looked around at the mess on the floor and briefly considered cleaning it up before throwing the idea away entirely.  What would be the point of that if everything ended up back to where it was in a few days?  It was like bathing: a complete waste of time and energy.  The easiest thing to do was to give in to the chaos and let it take over.  And speaking of chaos…</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     While Willow waited for Beetlejuice to come back downstairs from his room she scrolled through her phone, catching up on the texts she’d ignored during the day.  Luckily none of them were important; she’d missed an entire conversation in her group chat with Luna and Mike that was all gifs and Cora had sent her a text asking what brand of moisturizer she used.  She did have a series of texts from Mariah, mostly inquiring about Beetlejuice and why she hadn’t mentioned how cute he was, but those she decided to ignore until later when she could answer them in the privacy of her own room.  She did have her pride, after all, and risking her crush reading her messages over her shoulder wasn’t ideal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     ‘Where even is he?’ she wondered.  He’d been upstairs for a lot longer than necessary, but she didn’t want to go up and check on him just yet for fear she’d accidentally walk in on him changing or doing something else private.  She didn’t need to add that to her list of embarrassing things she’d had to go through today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Just as she turned back to her phone to go through her emails, she felt a slight tickle on her shoulder.  At first she ignored it, assuming it was her hair brushing against her skin, but then she felt it shift down to her arm.  She glanced down, bemused, and her eyes were met with a disembodied hand scuttling down her arm like a demented crab.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Beej, this is the laziest attempt at scaring me so far!” she exclaimed, shaking his hand off of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He appeared in front of her, pouting.  “Well, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> gonna do a spider, but you’re “uncomfortable” around them, so I had to try something else.  I thought about maybe a centipede, but I figured if a little spider gives you a heart attack, then so will that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     She rolled her eyes.  “How considerate.  What do you want to do now?  Do you want to go back out or are you done for today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He flopped down beside her on the couch.  “I’m done for today.  I don’t need to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> on my list right now, I’ve got plenty of time.  Besides, I’ll need things to do when I hop between scaring jobs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He had a point.  It wasn’t like he was on vacation from being invisible and needed to do as much as he could before he lost his powers again.  He was, theoretically, set for his afterlife now.  Unless something insane happened and he lost his powers again, he was free to do whatever he pleased whenever he pleased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Fair enough.  Want to watch a movie or something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Can we watch that one that’s basically a drawn out way of saying life is meaningless?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Night of the Living Dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Peter Pan</span>
  </em>
  <span>!  What are you even talking about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     They spent the rest of that Sunday on the couch together, huddled under a blanket, watching movies and munching on the leftover pizza from the night  before.  He sat as close to her as possible, keeping an arm around her shoulders the entire time.  She didn’t mind his closeness (he’d been intangible for so long, of course he would be cuddly), in fact she relished every moment of it.  She was being selfish, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>feeling </span>
  </em>
  <span>him next to her, having the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sensation </span>
  </em>
  <span>of his arm around her, was both comforting and satisfying, and she didn't want it to end.  He was never going to cozy up against her in a romantic way, so she’d take any cozy contact with him that she could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     When Willow went to bed that night, the events from the day kept flashing through her brain, making her smile.  She never expected that a day out on the town with Beetlejuice could be so fun.  And he didn’t even scare or hurt anyone!  It was hardly any different from going out with her human friends.  Except for the teleportation.  And the weird gift from that anonymous weirdo.  Those parts were a lot less fun.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     ‘I wonder what it would be like to go on an actual date with him,’ she pondered, staring up at the ceiling.  ‘He seems like he’d be sort of romantic.’’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     As soon as the thought crossed her mind she was disappointed in herself.  She was already struggling with this damn crush, she didn’t need to have problematic thoughts and ideas along with it.  Not only was it embarrassing, but it also felt like she was using him in a way.  At least she could be thankful that he didn’t seem to have any idea that she liked him.  Maybe she could even get rid of it before it got worse!  All she had to do was ask her friends and sister for advice, right?  What could go wrong?  At least one of them would be able to help her.</span>
</p>
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